


Die A Hero

by ForeverWhelmed



Category: Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Background Relationships, Batfamily (DCU), Blackmail, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Character Death, Child Abuse, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Dick Grayson is Renegade, Dick Grayson is Robin, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Evil Slade Wilson, F/M, Gen, Hero Complex, M/M, Minor Character Death, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Sensory Deprivation, Slade Wilson is a Manipulative Bastard Who Should Not Be Allowed Around Children, Starts Fluffy to Make the Angst Hit Harder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-04-22 19:16:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 45
Words: 367,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22204378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForeverWhelmed/pseuds/ForeverWhelmed
Summary: Robin is the Boy Wonder, Batman's protegee, member of the "Junior Justice League" and kickass superhero. Dick Grayson is the adopted son of billionaire Bruce Wayne, brother to four younger siblings, math whiz-kid, community service volunteer and all-around Golden Child. It's everything he ever wanted to be. Too bad he's also a liar, a thief and a secret mercenary-in-training.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Slade Wilson, Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd
Comments: 176
Kudos: 296





	1. Chapter 1

Dick Grayson

Gotham City

Saturday, March 21st, 2009

* * *

The man I'm chasing suddenly stops and whirls around, waving a knife in the air.

I flip in front of him and smirk, getting into a fighting stance. There's a pause before he lunges and then I'm dodging and ducking away from the blade's erratic pattern. I see an opening and swing my leg around in a spinning hook-kick, catching my opponent across the face and sending him to the ground, unconscious. Arms wrap around me from behind and lift me off the ground. Another gangster stands in front of me with a knife and slashes down towards my chest. I lift my legs to counter the attack but the blade changes direction and slices across my thigh. It cuts through my uniform and deep into my skin and I scream as pain crashes through me.

The gangster pulls back the bloody knife for another swing but I kick out, smashing his wrist and sending the blade flying. I wrap my calves around his neck and reach back with my arms to grab the shoulders of the guy holding me. I twist my whole body and the three of us go spinning to the ground. I wriggle away from the two stunned gangsters and flip away, pulling a batarang out of my utility belt. I throw it and it embeds in the floor between them, releasing a cloud of knockout gas. My heart pounds and adrenaline rushes through my veins.

_Click. _

I whip around and there's another gangster.

"Say your prayers, Boy Wonder." He aims his gun at me, and a gunshot thunders through the warehouse. The man's head explodes out, splattering the wall behind him with blood and lumpy gray fluid.

My heart slams against my ribcage as it beats.

I'm still alive.

I didn't get shot.

There's someone else in the warehouse.

My knees give out, and the gash in my thigh bleeds harder as my heart races. The world shakes and fades to black for a few seconds. When it comes back into focus, I'm lying on the ground, and there's blood everywhere. My blood is everywhere. I struggle to grab my leg and press my hand over the open wound. It burns and stings and I shout at the sudden pain. Fumbling at my utility belt, I can't stop my hand from shaking long enough to pull out a bandage or a strip of cloth.

In the distance, people are screaming and alarms are wailing and there are more gunshots. I manage to grab a bandage, but my hand is too slippery from the blood, and it slips out of my hand. My gaze wanders to the body that was a gang member until a few seconds ago. He was going to kill me. Someone killed him. I'm still going to die. The burning pain in my thigh throbs again, as the adrenaline of having a gun pointed at me starts to fade. I groan, loudly, and I feel something wet drip across my face.

I don't want to die. I just have to wait for Batman to find me. I just have to survive until then. Holding onto that last bit of hope, I grab blindly for the bandage. My hand can't find it. I cry harder, and I'm choking on my own throat in fear. I look around for anything that can help me, moving my head too quickly, and let out a desperate scream.

"Batman! Help! Someone help me! Please!" My voice is scratchy and weak and my head is spinning. The world spins too, and suddenly the world turns black.

Something squeezes my leg, and the pain is horrible. My eyes fly open as I scream.

"Stay still," a voice commands, low and authoritative. Dizzy from the pain, I don't argue. I bite my lip and grab at the ground as the stranger finishes bandaging my leg. When his hands move away, I fight to lift my head off the ground so I can see what they did. The bandage, bloodier than before, now tightly binds the gash shut. It burns and I can't stop the tears. My head throbs and it drops to the floor painfully.  
The last thing I see before I pass out is a black and orange mask.

* * *

_"Introducing… the fabulous, the death defying, the FLYING GRAYSONS!" Mr. Haly shouts and the crowd goes wild. The stands are packed with millions of people, watching us, waiting for us to fly. _

_"That's your cue," my dad winks at me. _

_"Show them what you can do, my little robin," my mom says. They're both standing behind me on the platform towering high above the ring. Mom is wearing her favorite dress and her great-grandmother's ruby earrings. My dad is wearing a blue flannel and his favorite bathrobe, saved for Monday mornings after a long weekend of performances. I stare down over the edge of the platform, and there's no net. Just a long, long, long fall. _

_"AND FOR THE FIRST TIME," Mr. Haly screams into the microphone, "The newest member, DICK GRAYSON!" _

_The trapeze is swinging towards me and the platform is getting smaller. I turn around, dizzy from the sheer height. My parents are watching me expectantly, waiting for me to jump. They don't move, even as the platform shrinks and there's nothing beneath their feet. _

_And then they fall. _

_"NO!" I scream, running over to the edge, but then there's no more platform and I'm falling too, and the crowd is cheering and the spotlights land on me as I plummet down, down, down. I look up, and the trapeze is still swinging between the platforms, but instead of falling my parents are performing. My dad catches my mom, and then she's flipping through the air again and the crowd is cheering and I'm still falling. _

_"MOM! DAD! HELP!" The ground gets closer… and closer… and closer… and I reach up and then--_

I jerk upright. My breaths come quick and heavy, the lightning still flashing before my eyes.

_"Focus on your heart rate. Take a deep breath in, and slowly breathe out. Keep breathing slowly and count the number of seconds each breath takes. Slow your breathing rate until your heart is back to normal." _Bruce's instructions ring through my head, allowing me to take control of my heart rate. Once I calm down, I sit upright in bed.

My room is pitch black as usual with the dark curtains closed, but it's scarily quiet. I don't hear any footsteps below me, no dishes clinking. Bruce is probably out dealing with some work thing, and Alfred is most likely cleaning every room in the house twice. I yawn, stretch, and reach for the light on the bedside table. My fingers miss the lamp, hand reaching out into empty space. That's not right. My heart starts pounding again and I look around for a light. As I climb off the bed with sore arms, the ceiling lights suddenly turn on and my heart stops.

The room itself is tiny, and there's not much decoration aside from gray walls, a dresser and a single light bulb in the ceiling. The only exit is a steel door in the corner. I manage a few steps before my leg buckles and I cry out. I look down and see thick layers of gauze wrapped around my upper thigh over the shredded fabric of my uniform. My utility belt is gone and I feel naked. I suddenly remember the warehouse and the gangster with a gun.

I thought I was going to die. Brain fluid and blood coating the wall suddenly flash before my eyes. My eyes water as bile rises in my throat. Someone killed him before he could kill me. Someone saved me, and it wasn't Batman.

I can't panic right now. If I'm going to figure this out, I have to stay calm, so I take a deep breath. I push against the pain as I trudge towards the door, needing to get out. I have no idea who brought me here, and even if they did save me, I can't just sit and wait to find out what they want.

I push open the door and step into a brightly lit hallway, wincing as my eyes adjust.

"You shouldn't be up."

I jump.

The motion sends a wave up pain up my leg and I wince. The man crosses his arms, switching the bundle of bandages from one hand to the other. He only has one eye and it's pinned on me. He has white hair, a goatee and his skin is covered in scars. Plus, he's built like a brick wall. A shiver runs down my spine.

"Where am I?" I demand, "Who are you?" My leg is throbbing, but I refuse to shift my weight off it.

"Sit back down," the man says, "I won't have you hurting your leg after all the work I did patching you up."

I hesitate and the man narrows his eye.

"Sit down, Richard."

"How do you know my name?" I demand, getting into the best fighting stance I can manage, "Who are you?"

"My name is Slade. I found you in the warehouse. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Where am I?" I repeat unsteadily.

"You need to sit down and rest your leg. Then I'll answer your questions. Deal?"

Slowly, I nod. My leg feels like it's been filled with acid and my vision is starting to blur from the pain. Playing along may be my only choice right now. Slade helps me walk back into the room and he carefully helps me back onto the bed.

"I need to clean and redress the wound." He explains, holding up the bandages he brought and I nod, lying back against the mattress and extending my leg.

"This is going to hurt," he warns. My fists clench around the sheets in response.

Slade removes the bandages and the throbbing pain in my leg becomes worse with every touch. His fingers move deftly around the wound, but they feel like knives. When he peels away the last layer of the bandage, the sudden burst of cold air burns my leg. I can't stop myself from crying out. Slade's head snaps up, his eye scanning my face intently.

"Are you alright?"

In too much pain to say anything, I nod my head in stiff and jerky movements. Slade's hands return to their work, although he watches me closely as he swabs it with a disinfectant that feels like being rubbed with a cactus. My teeth grind together in response and my eyes press as tightly closed as they can. I force breaths in and out, trying to shut out the stabbing, burning pain attacking me. My cheeks are wet with tears and I narrow in on the sensation of water on my face. It almost helps.

Finally, Slade stops working and the pressure eases off my leg. I cry out again in relief. My breathing is short and my fingers ache from how tightly they were pressed into the sheet.

"It's not infected. You're lucky. Knife wounds can be extremely messy."

"I know," I wheeze between gasps for air, "I've gotten stabbed before."

I wait for Slade to respond, but he just shakes his head in disbelief.

"What the hell is Wayne thinking, letting a kid fight on the streets?" He asks himself slowly. Rage explodes inside me, masking the pain.

"Leave him out of this!" I yell, pushing myself forwards, hands digging into the sheets again when my leg protests.

"Calm down. I didn't mean to upset you." Slade says pacifyingly. "I just…" He sighs.

"What?" I demand. Slade doesn't answer. "What?!"

He sighs again.

"You're only a child and you're fighting in a very dangerous war. It makes me wonder how many times the Batman has had to come save you when you're in over your head?"

Slade's voice is low and steady. For a split second, his gaze is like a tiger stalking its prey. I blink and shake my head, but his face is gentle and concerned. What?

"He doesn't! That's not true!" I protest, off guard.

"And you had the situation fully under control tonight? You successfully defeated four gangsters on your own and walked away unscathed?" My face starts to burn with embarrassment and my eyes narrow in rage.

"You don't know what you're talking about!"

"And you followed your mentor's orders to not separate? You protected your partner's back during the entire fight?"

"It wasn't my fault that we got separated! One of them broke off during the fight and I had to stop him!"

"Leaving Batman to fight twelve armed men on his own?"

My heart skips a beat, clenched tightly by icy fingers.

"Is he okay?!" I demand, voice shaking with desperation. "What happened?" Is that why I'm here? Is Bruce… dead? I can't tear my eyes away from Slade's face, which stays impassive. I can't read his expression at all and that just makes the panic worse.

"Bruce Wayne was checked into the emergency room for minor smoke inhalation. According to the police report, there was a small kitchen fire that luckily caused very little damage to the rest of Wayne Manor. He will be fine with some rest."

I let out a huge breath, but my heartbeat is still wild and I can't calm down. Bruce got hurt because I wasn't there to watch his back. I got stabbed because I disobeyed Batman's orders and went off by myself. I almost got shot because of it.

"I need to see him!" I exclaim.

"I'm sorry, Richard. You can't leave."

"What are you talking about? I have to see Bruce! My leg is fine!"

"I can't let you leave."

"Who are you? Where am I?!"

"Richard…"

"No! Tell me the truth! What's going on?!"

Slade sighs.

"I saw you bleeding out and I couldn't stand by. I can't stand to watch a child suffer. There was no time to wait for an ambulance and you needed medical attention, so I brought you here. But I shouldn't have, because now I can't let you go. It's too risky."

"Why not?!"

"You've seen my face, you know my name, and you've been gone too long. If I let you go, do you think your mentor will simply accept your mysterious reappearance?"

"You said he was in the hospital." My mouth is dry and my heartbeat has started to race.

"I have it on good authority that the Batman was seen searching the area three hours before Bruce Wayne was checked into the hospital."

"He wouldn't give up… if he thought I was… he wouldn't... Slade, please let me go! I need to see him."

"Richard, Batman is not called the World's Greatest Detective for nothing. If I let you go, he will find me and destroy everything I have worked for."

"Who are you?" I ask again, trying to ignore the growing pit in my stomach. If Slade is afraid of Batman, then he's bad news for me. I have to get out of here now.

"I told you. My name is Slade."

"That's not what I mean and you know it. Who are you really? What do you want?"

Slade smiles grimly.

"I'm not going to get anything past you, am I? I'm a mercenary."

"What… what are you going to do to me?!"

"I don't know." He shakes his head despairingly, "I'm so sorry Richard. I never should have taken you out of that warehouse."

The gunman's head exploding flashes back to me.

"Was that you?" I ask quietly, not looking Slade in the eye. "The gunman?"

A gentle hand lands on my shoulder.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I… I lost my son a few years ago. I couldn't watch another child die." The silence hangs between us, almost stifling.

"My parents were murdered," I confess, my voice heavy with pain. "Bruce is all I have left. Please, Slade, I can't lose him too."

Slade closes his eye silently. I hold my breath, waiting for him to respond. Finally, he admits, "There… might be a way. I don't like being vulnerable, and I can't leave loose ends, but it might be possible for you to go home without jeopardizing everything I've worked for."

"What is it?" I ask immediately.

"If you were to agree to work for me for a few years that would justify the risk of letting you return home. I'll train you to fight against your villains, and I'll keep your identity safe. In exchange, you'll help me with occasional small tasks and keep my secrets hidden."

He wants me to work for him?! He's a mercenary! I saw him murder the gangster in the warehouse… which he only did to save my life. He pulled me out of the fire and closed the wound on my leg so I didn't bleed out. He kept me safe when Batman couldn't. If he was going to hurt me, he could have let me get shot, left me in the warehouse to burn, or let me bleed out. Instead, he saved my life. What does he gain by lying about that?

"Okay."

Slade looks surprised and wary.

"Richard, this isn't a decision to make lightly. If you agree to work for me, you can't change your mind or back out later. I take contracts very seriously."

Suddenly, it occurs to me that I have no idea what I'm agreeing to. If I do this, I can't go back. But if I don't, I might never see Bruce again and my decision is made. I hold out my hand.

"Deal."

"I'll take you to the hospital after you've slept a little more. I will contact you in a few weeks." Slade moves out the room, and the door closes behind him with a snap. I fall asleep the second my head hits the pillow.


	2. Chapter 2

Dick Grayson

The Batcave

Sunday March 22nd, 2009

* * *

I open my eyes slowly. The familiar sight of the Batcave infirmary comes into view.

"Good morning," a woman says. She's blurry at first, but my eyes fix themselves and I recognize her neat gray hair and rectangular glasses. It's Doctor Thompkins. She was Bruce's physician when he was a little kid, and now she's the only doctor he trusts to patch him up after he gets hurt on patrol. If she's here, that means whatever happened to me was pretty bad.

I blink, trying to clear the fog out of my head. My heart jumps in my chest, along with a sudden wave of panic.

"What… what happened?" I ask. My voice catches in my throat and turns into a coughing fit.

"Easy, Dick. What do you remember?" She asks gently, in her soothing voice that makes it seem like she wouldn't even be worried if the world blew up. 

I screw my eyes shut.

Think!

"We were in the warehouse and the fire started… I went after some of them on my own but I couldn't… I… one of them had a knife… I think…" I don't remember anything after that. Why don't I remember?!

"Shhh, just breathe. It's okay. You're safe now." Doctor Thompkins puts her hand on my arm before I can freak out. I force air into my lungs, letting my hands relax from their death grip on the sheets. Doctor Thompkins readjusts her glasses and smiles reassuringly. "It's normal not to remember. You're on a lot of painkillers right now. You've been out for nine hours. Bruce found you with a nasty gash on your leg and minor smoke inhalation."

I cough again and she nods. The look on her face says, "What do you expect?"

"You'll be fine with a little rest, and I want you to stay off your leg for a few weeks. You got really lucky. A cut like that could damage your nerves and develop a serious infection."

I remember the blade slashing through my leg as I struggled against the gangsters holding me in an arm lock. I remember screaming as I lashed out, sending them to the ground and knocking them out.

What happened next?

My head throbs as I try to press through the black haze, but it just slips away.

"It'll come back. Don't hurt yourself," Doctor Thompkins says gently, one hand slowly stroking my hair comfortingly.

"Sorry."

There's a knock on the door and Bruce comes in.

"How is he, Leslie?" Bruce asks, voice full of worry. I do a double take. Bruce doesn't do worried, or really any kind of emotion unless there's cameras around. He must be really freaking out.

_Worth it_, my subconscious tells me. My eyes widen. What was worth it?!

"Ask him yourself," she smiles, standing up so he can take the chair. The door closes with a snap.

Snap.

The same sound the door made when Slade left the room.

Memories come back in flashes. A gun pointed between my eyes. The shot ringing through the warehouse, a gangster's head exploding. A black and orange mask appearing out of nowhere. Slade saying my name. Slade saying he wouldn't let me leave.

_"If you work for me, you can return home."_

"_Deal."_

"_I'll contact you in a few weeks."_

Bruce squeezes my shoulders, too much worry in his voice.

"Dick! Can you hear me?"

Blinking back the memories, I nod dimly. Relief floods his face and his arms raise, but he hesitates. I throw my arms around him and he lets himself hug me back.

It's warm and comfortable and so safe that tears start dripping down my face. Once I start crying, I can't stop. Bruce just holds me tighter. He starts rubbing circles into my back gently. There's no judgement, just love and relief and support even if he doesn't know why I'm crying. I thought I would never see Bruce again. I thought I would be trapped in that bunker with Slade forever. I thought I would die in the warehouse, a bullet lodged in my brain.

"It's okay," Bruce murmurs, "You're safe now. I'm here."

I sniffle and pull back from the hug. I take a few deep breaths, but the tears don't want to stop.

"I shouldn't have left you alone! I'm sorry!"

"I'm sorry, too." Bruce sighs, "I never should have brought you to that fight. I didn't realize how many there were, and we were both unprepared. You were hurt because of me. I never should have put you in danger, Dick. You're my responsibility. It's my fault you got hurt. I… I'm so sorry. This was all my fault."

"No it wasn't!" I protest, pulling back with tears and snot running down my face, "I'm the one who messed up! I left you alone to fight twelve of them by yourself, and then you didn't know where I was!"

Bruce looks at me sternly, guilt turning into disbelief.

"This was not your fault, Dick. I can't put you in danger anymore."

"You didn't! I put myself in danger!"

"That's the problem. You'll do whatever you think is right, even if it means putting yourself in the line of fire."

"That's what superheroes do! That's what you do!"

Bruce leans forward slowly, easing his hands onto my shoulders. I raise my head to meet his eyes, and I wince at the pain shining through them.

"I don't want you to be like me," he says solemnly and my gut twists with every word, "You deserve better. You deserve to be safe and healthy and happy."

"I am happy!" I shout. "Yes, I messed up, but that was my fault, not yours! I promise, I'll never do it again. I'll do exactly what you tell me to do from now on! You can't take Robin away from me."

"Dick…"

"No! I wanted to become Robin, and you knew exactly what that meant. But you let me do it anyway, even though you knew it wasn't a decision to be made lightly!" Slade's words slide off my tongue. "I won't stop being Robin."

Bruce stares at me, his face blank. I meet his eyes, narrowing them in determination. Finally, his mouth twitches in a mix of fondness and sadness.

"I know."

The mattress creaks as he sits next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

"I don't want to see you hurt."

"I don't want you to get hurt because I wasn't there. You need me."

The thought catches Bruce off guard. He blinks and his back stiffens while his mouth narrows into a thin line. His surprise only lasts for a second before the arm around my shoulder is pulling me into a hug.

"I know."

* * *

Dick Grayson

The Bishop Family Estate

Friday, April 14th, 2009

* * *

"Bruce, darling! It's been far too long."

"And I am deeply sorry about that, Theodora. I'd blame it on work, but it's really my own fault." Bruce answers in complete seriousness. Considering he does everything he can to stay away from Mrs. Miriam, it really is his fault. He always says telling the truth is the best way to lie.

"I swear, you get to be more of a charmer with every year," Mrs. Weimoff laughs, and Mrs. Miriam laughs with her.

"I do my best, Elana," Bruce smiles.

"Oh, and this must be Richard. My god, he's sprouted like a weed! What have you been feeding him?"

Mrs. Miriam reaches down to pinch my cheeks and I scoot backwards, just enough so that her thumbs can't quite reach. She settles for giving my face a brief squeeze before straightening. I fight back an eyeroll, but keep the forced socialite-in-training smile that Alfred insisted I perfect on my face.

"Now, Bruce, you must tell me about this new venture Caleb has roped you into. He insisted it would be quite the adventure to partner with you again."

"It's a collaborative project between two of our subdivisions, Theodora. I'm not quite sure how that qualifies as an adventure."

"That's not what Caleb tells me!" Mrs. Miriam leans in conspiratorially, pulling Bruce closer. "He seemed quite anxious about the whole thing. Don't tell him I've said so, but that man has no sense for business. Such a shame too, his father could talk a man into a dress and heels."

Mrs. Miriam cackles at her own horrible joke. Bruce and I make a face at each other.

_Can I go?_ I beg silently. He purses his lips and gives a tiny head shake.

"Well, Thea, you can't expect to get a straight answer from Caleb these days. You know his fiancé gets back from her deployment next week." Mrs. Weimoff points out.

"Oh! No wonder the poor boy is such a wreck." Mrs. Miriam exclaims, throwing her hands in the air.

"Deployment?" Bruce asks politely.

"You heard about the engagement, I assume?" Mrs. Miriam asks. Bruce nods. I shake my head.

"Well, Caleb's firm has been in consulting for the military for the past few years, and from what I hear he hit it off with one of the platoon leaders. She's due back from Afghanistan next week." Mrs. Weimoff tells me.

"You know, it's funny, Vivian always said that Caleb needed a woman who would boss him around, otherwise he'd just sit around twiddling his thumbs. And there he goes, head over heels for a drill sergeant!" Mrs. Miriam laughs shrilly.

"I'll be sure to send them my regards," Bruce says, cutting in neatly before the gossip gets any more out of hand.

"Well that's very sweet of you, but I would suggest you wait at least until Michelle gets back before you talk to Caleb. He really is a mess." Mrs. Weimoff says seriously, casting a worried glance across the hall.

"I appreciate the suggestion."

"We won't take up any more of your time, Bruce. Go mingle." Mrs. Weimoff smiles, giving me a conspiratorial wink.

"Always a pleasure to see you, Elana, Theodora." Bruce and I cross the hall, making our way towards the bathrooms so I have a quick escape if we get spotted again. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Mrs. Weimoff isn't so bad, but why does everyone try to pinch me?!" I whine. "Yes, I have gotten taller in the last twelve months. Congratulations for noticing!"

Bruce grins and pats my shoulder. "Just wait until you hit your growth spurt."

"Any sign of Roy?" I ask.

"I haven't seen Ollie yet, but they're both on the list. They should be here soon if they aren't already."

"I'm going to dieeeee….." I whine. Bruce laughs and messes up my hair.

"I'll bring flowers to your funeral."

"Bruuuuuuce…" I whine, reaching up to straighten it.

"Excuse me, waiter?" A new voice says while a hand taps Bruce on the shoulder. "Have you seen a walking pile of cologne and Playboy magazines? About yea high? Massive superiority complex? Oh, there you are Bruce! I was just looking for you."

"It's a shame, Oliver, I was really hoping you'd lost your invitation," Bruce offers Uncle Ollie his hand and a foppish smile before they both laugh and break character.

"Good to see you, Bruce. You too, kid." Uncle Ollie gives me a hug. There's no sign of Roy, but there is a woman with blonde hair and a long black dress at Ollie's side. She offers me a smile and I nod back at her.

"Is Roy here?" I ask.

Ollie shakes his head. "Sorry Dick. I owed him one so he skipped tonight. But I'd like you both to meet my partner, Dinah Lance."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wayne, and you too, Richard. Ollie has told me so much about you both."

"The pleasure is ours, Miss Lance. Although, I have to say that I'm reasonably sure we've met before. You said you and Ollie are… partners?"

"In everything. Partners in crime, you might even say," Dinah winks. "I'm sure you're both more than familiar with that particular line of work."

Hmm… if Bruce thinks they met before, then they definitely did. But is she really saying what I think she is? 

Bruce squeezes my shoulder twice, signaling to be on-guard. In this case though, Bruce looks totally at ease. There's none of the false charm he puts on when there's danger. Then that means… is Dinah really a superhero too?

"Three o'clock," Ollie mutters to Bruce. I scoot back, so I'm standing behind him.

"There you are, Bruce." Mr. Nathan Bishop appears, shaking Bruce's hand firmly.

"We're so glad you could make it!" Elizabeth Bishop croons, air-kissing Bruce's cheeks. She turns to Oliver and beams. "And Oliver, thank you for coming all this way! How's Moira?"

"She's keeping busy with the foundation," Ollie answers with a smile.

"Make sure to give her my best. We'll be back in Santa Barbara this summer and I've got so much to talk to her about. Your mother is an absolute genius when it comes to coordinating events."

"I'll tell her you said so." Ollie says. "Have you met Dinah?"

While Mrs. Bishop says her greetings, Nathan leans towards me and says, "If you've gotten bored of all the schmoozing, Jilly and Lenny set up a movie in the game room."

I look at Bruce pleadingly.

"Fine by me." He says. "Just make sure your tie is still on during dinner."

"Thank you!"

"Go through the kitchen and through the double doors in the back."

Mrs. Bishop winks at me as I slip past her and through the massive ballroom. The Bishops are old friends of Bruce's, which are pretty rare. Bruce and Nathan met in college way before Bruce was using his playboy billionaire cover and they somehow managed to stay in contact. Jill and her younger brother Lenny wave at me when I make it to the game room. There's a giant tv against one wall and a ring of couches and armchairs.

"Hi Dick!" Lenny waves.

"We saved you a seat," Jill gestures to one of the two empty couches from her spot on a plushy recliner.

There aren't a lot of kids at these kinds of events. Dolled-up toddlers and little kids in clothes that would cost what my parents made in a year get paraded around during the cocktail hour, but after about forty minutes the nannies come to whisk them back home. Aside from Jill and Lenny, a boy named Michael and a pair of twins named Veronica and Lydia are watching Mulan. Jill is fourteen and she's the oldest. Michael is the youngest and I'm only a few months older than him. They're all nice enough, even if the only thing I have in common with them is that we all agree these dinners are so stupidly boring.

I wish Roy was here.

I sit on the couch closest to the door and pull out my phone, checking the time. Dinner isn't for another hour and a half, and Bruce always has to stay until at least midnight. But it could be worse. At least I don't have to make any more small talk tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Another day, another chapter! I know it starts out slow, but I will be posting a chapter a day all week so we can get through the intro quickly. Thank you for reading and stay tuned for the next update! Let me know if you're enjoying it or you have any theories about what's going to happen!


	3. Chapter 3

Dick Grayson

Starling City

Saturday, April 15th, 2009

* * *

"Think you can handle it for the night?" Green Arrow asks, winking at me cheerfully. Kid Flash and I nodded enthusiastically, while Speedy crosses his arms to try and look uninterested.

"We can handle it, Ollie," he insists and his mentor nods. The Flash shrugs his shoulders.

"I trust them to watch out for each other. I'm sure it's good for them to go off on their own for a little."

Everyone turns towards Batman, and I put on my best, "I can do this" face. It must work, because Batman says, "Alright. But be careful."

"We won't be more than a few hours. Don't stay out past one, and if you run into anything that you can't handle, do not engage. Call Clark if there's an emergency." Flash says, looking back and forth between me, KF and Speedy.

"We'll be fine," Kid Flash replies, trying not to whine.

"I'm serious. Literally just shout. We told him to keep his ear out." Flash adds.

"You guys trained us to be ready. You can trust us to be careful," I add convincingly. "Plus, we all have our communicators."

Finally, our mentors nod. As they turn to leave, Green Arrow looks back at us and grins.

"By the way," he calls cheekily, "If you destroy my city, you're all grounded."

We watch from the rooftop as the Batwing rises off the ground and shoots away, a dark streak in the night sky.

"You're so lucky that you're rich," Kid Flash says, "You guys get all the cool stuff."

"Yeah, I guess, but it stinks sometimes too. The parties are super boring and there's just so many of them. Speaking of which…" I spin around, pointing a finger at Speedy angrily, "You weren't even there last night! You left me there all alone! I had to deal with three hours of rich old hags poking at me and saying how 'wonderfully generous' Bruce is. And Mrs. Miriam kept trying to pinch me!"

Speedy shrugs, smirking evilly. "Sorry kid. I just had so much homework to do. Plus, Ollie owed me for catching that sniper he missed last week."

"You're an ass." I pout. Roy messes up my hair and smirks even wider.

"Like you didn't sneak off to watch tv as soon as Bruce turned around. And swearing doesn't make you sound cool."

Wally laughs, "Wow, Rob. Tough life you've got there."

I stick my tongue out at Roy and turn back to Wally.

"Yeah, we get some pretty cool gear. Bruce just made these new smoke pellets that gets filtered through the mask lenses so we can see through it."

"That's so cool! How does it work?"

Before I can respond, Speedy interrupts, "Are we just going to stand here and talk all night or are we going to go stop a bank robbery?"

He holds up the handheld police-scanner that Ollie modified to show crimes happening around the city. The scanner reads, "Bank robbery in-progress. 48 South George Street. Hostage situation. All units report."

"That's only eight blocks from here." Speedy says, stowing it away. "I'll show you guys how to get there…"

"Race you!" Kid Flash interrupts, pulling his red goggles over his eyes and speeding away.

"Cheater!" I call after him, grabbing my grappling gun and jumping off the roof. I fire it towards the nearest building as I fall, and the line catches my weight as I swing forwards. I let out a cackle as wind whips around my head and my heart pulses with pure adrenaline. There's nothing as fun as flying through the air. I tuck and roll when I land on the next rooftop and reel in the grappling line. Without interrupting the movement, I break into a run and start to cross the cityscape. I jump over air-conditioning units and dive from building to building without missing a step.

Behind me, Speedy tries to follow my route, but he's having a much harder time making some of the longer jumps. I feel a rush of pride and speed up, trying to spot the yellow and red blur that is Kid Flash. About two minutes later, I see him running up the side of the building to get a better view. I land beside him and pull out my binoculars.

"I circled the block a few times to check for explosives, getaway cars or anything that might be a trap. It's clear."

"Good thinking." I look through the binoculars, trying to see through the bank's windows. Speedy lands behind us with a thud.

"There's six of them in there. I can't tell if they have hostages or not," I say before Speedy reaches for the binoculars.

"Let me see," he insists, but Kid Flash is faster and grabs it out of my hands.

"I only see five," he says, staring through the lenses in deep concentration. Speedy growls in annoyance and pulls the binoculars away. He studies the interior of the bank.

"Rob is right. There's six; one by the main entrance, four in the center and one in the back. There's someone tied up in the back, maybe multiple people. We have to be careful."

I snort; Speedy lives for excitement, and even Ollie thinks he's too reckless. How did he say that with a straight face?

"So what's the plan?" Kid Flash asks. Speedy takes another look through the binoculars.

"If we get the doors open, how fast can you disarm the guns?" Speedy asks and Kid Flash thinks.

"I can disarm them all in three seconds."

I shake my head. "That's not fast enough. The average trigger reflex is faster than a quarter of a second. There's too high of a chance that someone will get hurt."

"Rob, how good is your aim?"

"How good is yours?" I shoot back, insulted.

"I'm serious. Can you jam the barrel on the first try?"

"I can knock it out of their hands with one shot."

Speedy nods.

"Alright. We have to move fast. I'm going to draw out the guy in front. As soon as I do, KF, you disarm the guy on the hostages and take him out. Rob, you take out the left two. I'll get the right two. Make sure you disarm them before they have a chance to shoot. We can't risk anyone getting hurt."

"Got it," I nod, and KF does the same.

"On my mark." Speedy instructs. Kid Flash pulls his red goggles over his eyes and I pull out two batarangs.

"Ready." We say in unison.

"Good. Let's move."

* * *

"Tuck your knees in and follow your weight. It's easy!" I exclaim, leaning over the edge of the building. The next rooftop is maybe eight feet below, so it's a perfect spot for Wally to try a flip.

"If he misses, we're going to have to clean speedster pancake off the ground," Roy snips, wiping dirt off his bow.

"He won't miss! It's so easy."

"Uh, actually I might be with Roy on this one." Wally interjects sheepishly.

"What? KF, don't be a wimp."

"I'm not a wimp!"

"Could'a fooled me."

"Hey, did you see me earlier? That guy waved a machine gun in my face and I didn't even flinch."

"That's because you were moving faster than he was."

"Yeah, but he still could have shot me."

"Ugh, will you two shut up?" Roy complains, leaning his chin on his bow. "Let's go find something else to do. I'm bored."

"What kind of crime happens in Starling City anyways?" Wally asks, sitting against the building's partition with his legs outstretched. He's tossing bits of gravel in the air absentmindedly, and the small bits of rock are moving so fast that smoke is starting to rise off them.

"There's some gang activity, robberies, a few super-powered crazies and a surprisingly large number of assassins. I don't know what it is, but assassins love this city." Roy answers, staring over the cityscape.

"You're lucky. We get a ton of psychos who are bent on world destruction. Also, there's a lot of theme villains," I chime in.

"Central City gets a lot of theme villains." Wally responds, "But they don't really care about world domination that much. They care more about stealing stuff and causing trouble."

"Metropolis probably has the weirdest villains, though. Aside from Luthor, Superman has to deal with the wackiest people. Like Toyman or Mr. Mxyzptlk." Roy adds, looking over his police scanner for anything to do.

"Yeah, I'm glad Supes is the one to deal with him." I snort and they both stare at me.

"Supes?" Roy repeats incredulously.

"Superman is just too long to say all the time. I figured it's easier to shorten it."

"Yeah, but Supes? Really?" Wally asks. I stick out my tongue and shove him.

"You're a weird kid, Grayson." Roy shakes his head. He leans back on his hands and lets his head loll backwards. "This is so boring! Why isn't anything happening?"

Wally jumps up and covers Roy's mouth with his hands.

"Don't say that!" He exclaims as Roy pushes his hands away, spitting.

"Don't tell me what to do!"

"You just jinxed us. Now, every baddie in the city is going to come after us tonight!"

"Don't be so dramatic."

Ollie's police scanner lights up. The three of us look down eagerly.

"What is it?"

"There's a break in at the museum."

"I bet it's the special exhibit!" I say eagerly.

"What exhibit?" Wally asks.

"A team of archaeologists in the Himalayas uncovered this ancient monastery library filled with these ancient spiritual texts about life and reincarnation."

"Oh!" Roy nods, "That must be why Ollie paid so much to that Mongolian research team."

"We've got to check it out!" Wally grins, vibrating with excitement.

"Do you think we should call the League?" I ask. "If Ollie paid for the exhibit, he might have been setting a trap. He'll probably want to know about this."

Roy shrugs dismissively. "If he's trying to set a trap, then he'll be watching the museum too."

"So it's settled!" Kid Flash cheers, lowering his googles over his eyes. "Rob, hop on!"

I climb on to Kid Flash's back, hooking my arms around his shoulders.

"Let's go stop a robbery!"

* * *

"Okay, maybe you weren't being dramatic…" Speedy says exactly twenty-six minutes and forty-one seconds later as the crowd of assassin thieves closes in on us.

"I got the left!" I quip, pulling out a smoke pellet and disappearing into the cloud of gas.

"I'll take the right!" Wally responds quickly before zooming into the forwards against his attackers. Roy grumbles something about the middle, but it's hard to hear him in the middle of all the yelling and punching. I throw batarang after batarang, punching, kicking and flipping with precision. For a bunch of highly trained assassins, they're honestly pretty easy to knock out.

"Rob, behind you!" Wally shouts. I drop to the ground and Roy's bolo arrow wraps tightly around the last assassin's arms. I do a spin kick on the ground, knocking their legs out from under them.

"Nice one, Speedy!" I cheer. Then I dive out of the way of a sword… and the guy holding it.

"Does anyone have eyes on the package?" Speedy shouts. I look at the display case, and the backpack stuffed with priceless documents is gone. I flip backwards to avoid Mr. Sword's sword and then I spot an assassin with the backpack making a break for it.

"There!" I point.

"He's getting away!" Kid Flash shouts, cornered by three other assassins.

"Robin, go!" Speedy orders, shooting a net arrow at the assassin trying to turn me into a Robin-kebab.

"I got it!" I pull out my grappling hook and shoot up onto a low roof. I follow the assassin's path from above, diving from rooftop to rooftop and swinging across wide gaps between taller buildings. The assassin ducks into alleys and over dumpsters, climbing over chain-link fences with impressive speed. I'm still moving a lot quicker than he is. Suddenly, he looks up at me and throws a shuriken that almost cuts my ear off. When I look down, he's gone.

"No!" I jump off the roof and swing off a light post, landing softly in the alley.

_Where did he go?_

There's a thump that sounds like something heavy hitting the ground. It's coming from the window on the right-hand wall. The window pane is lying on the ground, cracked in three giant shards. I grin before taking two running steps and diving through the window, rolling smoothly when I hit the ground on the other side.

_Uh-oh._

I freeze. The assassin is slumped in a pile on the ground, unconscious but clearly still breathing. Standing over him… Slade throws me the backpack filled with the stolen texts.

"Looking for these?"

I catch the backpack on pure reflex. My head is spinning and my brain stalls.

"What are you doing here?"

"I told you I would be in touch," Slade responds. "We need to go over the details of our arrangement."

"Uh… this really isn't a good time…" I start nervously, trying to edge my way towards the window.

"This won't take long," Slade promises. He stares down at me, crossing his arms sternly. "Unless you don't intend to uphold your part of the bargain."

"No. I… I do. It's just…"

Kid Flash and Speedy are waiting for me. I'm in uniform. I hoped Slade forgot. Part of me thought none of it was real. But it was. And I promised. I inhale, shaking my head to jump-start my brain before meeting Slade's gaze.

"Okay. What are they?"

"We will meet once every three weeks. I have acquired a property in the southern part of Gotham that we will use for immediate future. You will make your way there by seven o'clock. If transportation is an issue at any point, send me a message and I will provide something for you. We will meet for three hours unless I tell you otherwise. I will tell you the next date every time we meet, but to remind you I will send a message on your phone. I have a burner phone specifically for this purpose. It cannot be traced back to me, nor can it be tracked. You can use this number if you need to reach me in an emergency. If you have any conflicts and absolutely cannot make it, tell me with as much advance notice as possible, but I expect you to make every effort to show up. Do you understand?"

I nod.

"Discretion will be essential for both of us. The less contact we have with each other, the less likely it is that anyone will get suspicious."

I nod again. Less contact sounds good.

"I will text you the address from the burner phone. Be at the garage by seven o'clock next Wednesday night. Do you understand?"

I don't patrol on Wednesdays. How did he know that?

"Yes."

"Good. Now I believe you have some stolen property to return."

When I look up, the warehouse is empty. All that's left is the unconscious assassin against the wall, the backpack in my hands, and the taste of dust in my mouth. My mind is racing as I manage to make my way back across the rooftops to the museum by muscle memory alone.

"Nice work, Rob!" Wally cheers, thumping me on the back when I pass the backpack to Roy.

"Thanks," I mutter, trying to smile back at him but it doesn't really work. What did I get myself into?


	4. Chapter 4

Dick Grayson

The Batcave

Wednesday, April 18th, 2009

* * *

"Load the sample in here and make sure the lid is firmly closed." Batman instructs, helping me put the capsule into the DNA sequencer. Before he can show me how to start the machine, an alarm on the Batcomputer starts blaring. We make eye contact for a split second, then we're running for the computer.

"Break in at Tiffany's in downtown." I read the alert.

"Let's go." Batman presses a button and the Batmobile doors swing open.

"Can I drive?" I ask.

"When you're sixteen," Batman answers, climbing decisively into the driver's side.

"I know how!" I protest as I jump into the passenger seat.

"Really." Batman revs the engine and the Batmobile races out of the cave, through the false rock wall that disguises the entrance, and down the road towards the city.

"Yeah! Mom thought it would be good for me to learn so Omar taught me."

"Omar the lead clown?"

"Yeah!"

"In that case, absolutely not."

"No fair." I grumble. If I have to learn how to use a DNA analyzer for crime scene sample analysis, I should get to drive a car but Batman's so weird about that stuff. It's still not fair. I'm a good driver! Everyone in the circus said so! He's the one being stubborn about it. I guess can let it go. I'll be the bigger person.

Five minutes later I tell him, "You're just biased against clowns."

"That bias seems perfectly reasonable to me." Batman answers, raising an eyebrow as high as it can go. I roll my eyes.

"The Joker's not a real clown!"

"What defines being a real clown or not?"

"Clowns are fun! They make people happy and it takes a lot of work and effort. The Joker doesn't deserve to call himself a clown!"

"I don't mean any offense to Omar. I'm sure he was a very talented clown but that doesn't change the fact that I personally think that even non-homicidal, perfectly lovely people clowns are terrifying and I think you know how I feel about homicidal clowns."

I giggle.

"Are you scared of clowns? Real clowns?"

Batman shakes his head and points at the road.

"Oh look, we're here. What a perfect time to leave this conversation and never come back to it."

Still giggling, I climb out of the Batmobile and pull out my grappling gun, following Batman in a straight path up to the Tiffany's rooftop. There's a black duffel bag near a giant vent. Soft climbing sounds are followed by a woman pulling herself out of the vent with the grace of someone who robs high security buildings for fun.

"Catwoman." Batman announces.

"Batman," The thief purrs, slowly turning around as if she has all the time in the world. She grins at him, waggling her fingers to show off the dozens of rings and bracelets on her hand before she pulls all of it off and stows it in the bag on her hip.

"Those don't belong to you."

"Meow. The World's Greatest Detective, everyone." She saunters forwards, moving closer and closer to Batman until her face is inches from his. "Now I suppose this is the part where you tell me I'm not going to get away with this and that we can do it the easy way or the hard way."

My hand reaches for a birdarang, but Batman hasn't moved. Neither has Catwoman, extended claw tips resting on Batman's chest like she's about to scratch him.

"I'll give you a freebie, oh mighty Crusader. Emeralds in the vent above the vault with the rest of my gear." She tilts her head like she's pouting. "I didn't have time to go back for my stuff before you boys got here."

"Robin." Batman orders, his voice almost a growl.

"On it." I say, running for the door that leads down from the roof. If I wasn't so glad to leave the two of them and their weird… whatever that was behind, I'd almost think it was too easy. Like she wanted us to show up and stop her. She's crazy.

* * *

Bruce Wayne

Tiffany's Roof

* * *

"He's limping?" Catwoman asked.

"Warehouse fire." He paused, a second longer than strictly appropriate. "Debris."

Catwoman saw right through him, like she always did. Tilting her head to just that angle that made her hair slide off her shoulder, distracting him from that piercing look in her eyes- the one that said, 'I know you know that I see through you, don't even try to hide it.'

"You're not sure."

"We got separated and… something happened. I don't know what and he won't tell me. Says he doesn't remember."

"He's a little young for a teenage rebellion, isn't he?" Catwoman sounded puzzled. Batman frowned. He wasn't sure if it was from her tone or the insinuation that there was something big and obvious he was missing. Batman made a point not to miss the big and obvious things.

"Something scared him. Someone."

"Who?" Catwoman demanded.

"I'm trying to find out. If the fire was a setup, whoever was behind it covered their tracks too well and the leads are drying up fast."

Catwoman's frown matched his own. "I haven't heard anything on my end. If any of the Rogues managed to get one up on the Boy Wonder, the whole Iceberg would know about it by first call. Joker, Two-Face, hell, even Firefly would have shouted it to the rooftops."

"Not a Rogue," Batman said. "The Fifteens have been cutting into Falcone territory. I ID'd six members of their gang at the warehouse after the situation was neutralized. The fire was Falcone making a stand. Cut and dry."

"But…" she drew out the word, waiting for him to get to the point.

"It's too obvious. The firefight started before we got there but no casualties. They started shooting at us as soon as we arrived."

Catwoman snorted. "You'd think gangsters would know better by now."

"They do. When I show up to a turf war, they scram. They don't start a twelve-on-one in the middle of enemy territory."

"I take it you shook Falcone down?"

"He didn't know about any of it."

"Convenient." Catwoman snorted, flexing her claws at the thought of the mob boss. There was no love lost between the Rogues and the mobs, and Catwoman especially detested them. Unfortunately, this time his story checked out.

"He didn't know about the warehouse in the first place, much less ordering his men to torch it. Besides, the ones I caught are barely even bottom of the pecking order. Some of them weren't in the mob at all."

"So, it was a setup."

"Correct. I just don't know who's behind it or why. We made thirteen arrests after the fire and none of them knew who they'd been hired by. The money was supposed to come through another man, Mike Santini, who'd originally been approached to do the job. But whether or not Santini knew who he'd been hired by..." Batman frowned, acknowledging the wave of guilt from a preventable death. Catwoman's mouth tightened into a line when she realized what his silence meant.

"You can't save them all Batman. Those idiots knew the risks when they set the fire."

"Santini was shot in the head."

Catwoman's eyes widened.

"What? You said it was just a warehouse fire."

"I thought it was."

"Wait, slow down. Set the scene for me. Something about a twelve-on-one?"

"When Robin and I arrived, the warehouse was already on fire and the rival 'gangs' were shooting at each other. Based on the lack of casualties and their response to our appearance, the entire thing was a trap to lure us into the warehouse. During the fight, one of the thugs took off running and Robin went after him. I thought I had dealt with all of them but something hit me from behind when I went after Robin. By the time I woke up, police and fire were doing evac."

Catwoman looked stunned.

"What?" He asked.

"You miscounted your takedowns?!" She hissed, sounding scandalized.

Batman scowled and continued. "I took out ten thugs and all ten were taken into custody. Not counting Santini, GCPD arrested three more in the loading dock behind the warehouse."

"So one of those four knocked you out." Catwoman said decisively.

"It only could have been Santini." Batman nodded. "Robin says he took out three of them before the debris hit and he passed out. The other three all had similar stories; Robin knocked them out with a smoke grenade."

"So say it was Santini. He knocked you out and went after his buddies in the loading dock. Who shot him?"

"Any of the three could have done it. They might have been aiming at Robin and missed. They were all armed and their weapons had been fired repeatedly."

"Makes sense to me." Catwoman shrugged. "So, start to finish, you show up to a fire, surprise! It's also a gunfight. You take ten while Robin chases three to the loading dock. One of them was hiding, knocks you out while your back is turned, and gets shot by a stray bullet while trying to pummel Robin. Robin knocks out other three, gets hit with debris and passes out. Emergency services pull everyone out so there's one casualty instead of fifteen. What's the problem?"

"All three thought Santini was alive. When I interrogated them separately, their stories matched. Robin took the three of them out at the same time. None of them fired a weapon or heard a gunshot."

"I see." Catwoman hummed and stepped closer, counting out on her fingers. "We have a body and no plausible killer. That means we're missing a player. Someone else was in the warehouse who knocked you out, shot Santini…"

She paused long enough to fix him with a piercing stare, and continued like she was pulling the thoughts straight out of his head. "And probably was the mysterious boss who orchestrated the whole thing. Double bonus, you think Robin saw him do it, and our mystery man scared him."

"There's no motive otherwise." Batman said. "If it was a gang dispute, why deliberately drag vigilantes in? I… can't put aside the idea that whoever was behind it was trying to get to Robin. But I can't be sure."

"Too bad the kid won't just tell you."

Batman hesitated.

"He may not know. He was unconscious when I found him."

"You haven't asked him yet?"

"I didn't want to push him. The whole thing rattled him a lot more than he's willing to admit. Santini was shot right in front of him and that's a lot for him as it is. I have to give him time right now."

Catwoman sighed.

"Look stud, I know you're panicking. But cuts and bruises aside, the kid is fine. You know he's having the time of his life flipping around the museum as we speak. I'll do some digging of my own and see if I can stir up anything. Okay?" Batman didn't answer. Catwoman took it as the affirmative she was looking for and her claws settled back on his chest. "Now can we get back to the part where I lured you here under false pretenses to seduce you?"

"You fiend." Batman said dryly.

"Careful, handsome, you might hurt my feelings," Catwoman grinned, stepping closer. She leaned in, lips pausing a centimeter from Bruce's ear. His hand paused in midair, torn between duty and desire. "You never think about what could happen?"

The whisper swept through the night.

"Selina, you know why I can't." He said firmly as his hand moved between them and pushed her back gently. She stepped back, a tight look on her face.

"You're a crimefighter, I'm a criminal, we're just too different." Catwoman sighed, but behind the dramatics there was real sadness.

"I have a kid, Selina. He comes first."

"I know." Catwoman snapped. Then her face softened. "I know. But I know you feel the way about me that I feel about you, so I know there has to be a way."

"There is."

Catwoman flinched. "You would say that. I'm not giving it up."

"Then that's your choice." Batman said, disguising the pang in his chest as venom in his voice.

"Jackass." Catwoman snapped. "You don't see me demanding that you give up your Caped Crusading."

"The city needs Batman," Batman graveled. "It doesn't need a thief running around in skintight leather."

Instead of getting mad, Catwoman turned slowly, showing off with a wicked grin that sent a spark all the way down. Batman told himself he was analyzing the scene in order to be aware of the situation and that it was completely different than staring.

"The entire population of hot-blooded men would disagree with that." Catwoman stepped closer, pulling him in. "Including you."

Batman didn't fight as their lips met.

He didn't let himself think. There would be plenty of time to analyze the moment later, when the rigidly disciplined crimefighter would try to reconcile with the overwhelming certainty that he was in love. Thinking was just not possible when he was standing on a rooftop, a harsh breeze whipping his cape around while one hand was tangled up in Catwoman's silky hair and the other was wrapped around her waist and her tongue was dancing across… SHIT. Those were definitely footsteps and they were moving fast.

"Robin." Batman muttered and the kiss turned seamlessly into a fight. Catwoman's foot slammed into his chest, knocking him backwards. He threw a series of punches, catching her on the shoulder and giving himself a chance to refocus. When his sidekick threw the door to the roof open, Batman was sure there wasn't any sign of their… previous engagement.

"That's my cue, boys," Catwoman announced boldly. With a flick of her wrist, she uncoiled the whip around her waist and cracked it in the air. She lashed out and wrapped it around a stone gargoyle, swinging through the air onto another roof and landing with a roll.

"You're not getting away!" Robin shouted and Batman suddenly felt exhausted. Robin's grappling line fired and he disappeared off the rooftop. Batman pulled out his own grappling gun and followed the two of them, far enough behind that Catwoman wouldn't be tempted to stick around. Robin already saw too much of their… altercations. For all of their sakes, he didn't need to see any more.

Robin had caught up to Catwoman and the two of them were sparring on a rooftop. Catwoman spun out of the way and caught Batman's eye as she stood up. She winked and nodded at the edge of the building just as Robin charged towards her.

No. She wasn't about to… Damn that woman.

"Selina." Batman growled as he fired his grappling line and shot through the air in time to catch Robin mid free-fall. Batman dropped to the ground and put Robin down, fighting the urge to rub his temples as Robin immediately tried to charge after her.

"She's not getting away!" Robin shouted, already trying to scale the building and resume the chase.

"Robin, she's gone."

"We can't just let her go, Batman!"

"She'll be back."

"Are you kidding me?! She just threw me off the roof and you want to let her go?!"

"Yes." Batman graveled. "We recovered the jewels and you have school tomorrow. It's not worth going after her now."

Robin gave him a look of pure frustration before turning away.

He muttered something that sounded like, "I'll give you a freebie, yeah right."

"What was that?"

"Nothing!"

* * *

Dick Grayson

The Batcave

Friday, April 20th, 2009

* * *

"Aquaman. Thank you for coming on such short notice." Batman holds out his hand and the King of Atlantis shakes it firmly.

"Absolutely. It was the least I could do," Aquaman responds, nodding his head solemnly. Hiding in the stalactites behind the trophy cases, I can't tear my eyes away from the man dressed in ceremonial garments that look like something from another universe. I've never seen Aquaman before, but he's so cool! He's an actual king! He even has a crown and everything! Plus, he can talk to sea creatures and has super strength and can breathe underwater!

Aquaman clears his throat and looks pointedly at Batman.

"I trust your protégée is… here?" He asks uncertainly. Batman nods, a slight smirk on his face.

"Robin, you can come down now."

Busted.

I drop down from the stalactite, take two steps on top the trophy case and launch myself in the air. I flip three times and roll when I hit the ground. Then I bounce up next to my mentor with a huge grin on my face. My mouth drops open and suddenly I'm staring. I didn't notice him before, but there's someone standing next to Aquaman. He's way taller than me, with dark skin, short blonde hair and tattoos on his arms and … gills?! He smiles shyly and I smile back before looking at Batman, startled. When he said Aquaman was coming over for a business deal with Bruce Wayne, he never mentioned that anyone else was coming too.

"Aquaman, this is Robin." Batman introduces before I say anything awkward like, 'I think your fish powers are awesome!'

Aquaman smiles and holds out his hand. I shake it, beaming with excitement that I'm actually meeting the King of Atlantis!

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Robin. I've heard very impressive things about you." He releases my hand firmly and gestures to the teenager at his side. "I'd like to introduce both of you to my protégée, Kaldur'ahm."

Batman shakes his hand and I think I'm going crazy because he's actually smiling. Batman NEVER does that in front of other league members. Then, Batman pulls his cowl back so that Bruce Wayne is standing in the Batcave with Atlantean Royalty. My heart stops for a second. He must really trust Aquaman to reveal our secret ID's so soon. Hesitantly, I pull my mask off too, then tuck it in my utility belt. Bruce gestures to the stairs leading up to the manor.

"Shall we?" He suggests.

When we get to the study, Bruce turns to me. "We have a few hours before the broadcast. Why don't you go show Kaldur'ahm around?"

Aquaman nods at his protégée, and then follows Bruce out of the room. I smile at Kaldur'ahm.

"Are those really gills?" I ask. He cocks his head to the side and nods slowly.

With genuine curiosity, he asks, "What else would they be?"

I grin sheepishly, "Sorry. Bruce says that I need to stop asking people annoying questions."

Kaldur'ahm smiles. "King Orin says that I am not inquisitive enough."

"Great! So we're a perfect match. I'll talk and you can tell me when to can it."

"Can what?" He asks.

"I have no idea. Nobody will tell me what the 'it' is. They all pretend to know, but I don't really think they do." I pause for a second, but Kaldur'ahm is still listening attentively. "It's so stupid the way that people use expressions that they have no clue what they actually mean and then pretend it means something else."

"It's the same in Atlantis," Kaldur'ahm tells me. "A common expression is 'In every oyster there is a pearl,' which is used to say that you should look for opportunity. But pearls are actually a great inconvenience for oysters, and they get very offended if they hear that phrase."

"Can you talk to oysters too?" I ask excitedly. He starts to shake his head, then stops himself.

"Well... not on my own. But there are spells taught at the conservatory that can allow you to understand other creatures."

"That's awesome!"

"What are your powers?" He asks. I grin at him.

"I don't have any."

"What? But I saw you fly a few minutes ago."

I shake my head.

"That's not flying. That's flipping. It's just acrobatics and body movements. Anyone can do it."

"I do not think so. I have been on the surface for several months now, and I have never seen anyone move in this way."

I shrug, "It's a very specific skillset. Most people can't do any acrobatics, but gymnasts can and cheerleaders and contortionists kind of can."

"That's very impressive. I do not completely understand surface um… psychics yet."

"You mean physics?"

Kaldur'ahm looks embarrassed.

"I believe so. I apologize. English is difficult for me."

"I know!" I exclaim, "It sucks! There's no consistency in conjugations, verb tenses make no sense, pronunciation is a total mess and there is no acceptable reason why xylophone starts with an x!"

"It's not my first language either," I add when he starts to look confused, "I spoke a lot of different languages with my parents growing up. Everyone in the circus speaks English, but most people spoke Spanish, French, German and Italian. And I still remember a little Polish and Turkish. Then the circus moved to the US, so we all started speaking English."

"That must be very difficult to keep straight," he replies.

I shrug. "I guess. I really like languages though. I like to make up words and new expressions. I did it a bunch by mixing languages when I was little, but nobody else speaks so many around here so they can't understand it."

Kaldur'ahm nods, looking sad, "The surface world is beyond anything I had ever imagined, but I do miss Atlantis. King Orin insists that we speak English while we are here."

"Do you guys live on the surface now?"

"No. We have been splitting time between this world and Atlantis, but this has been the longest I've been away. I find I am… homesick."

"And nobody else here speaks Atlantean?"

He shakes his head.

"Could you teach me some?"

"You would want to learn it?"

"Yeah! I told you, I love languages! It'll be like our secret code. Nobody will know what we're saying."

"King Orin will know."

"Nope! Because you're going to learn some surface languages too! We'll make a new omni-language!"

"I would really like that!" Kaldur'ahm beams.

"C'mon! Let's go up to my room," I say before bounding out of the room, "Race you!"

"You will not win!" Kaldur'ahm shouts suddenly, taking off behind me. We're neck and neck going up the stairs, but he's too fast for me to beat. He pulls ahead as we round the landing, and then it's a battle for the home stretch down the East Wing. I launch myself towards the oak double doors that lead to Bruce's suite, but it's not enough. Kaldur'ahm beats me by a quarter second. I look up at him from where I flopped gracelessly on the ground after my failed dive-roll, then I stick out my tongue.

Kaldur'ahm begins to laugh, chest heaving as he takes in air. I laugh too, my hair sticking up everywhere and my arms tangled in my cape. He reaches down and offers me a hand to help me up.

"Good race, Robin."

"Good race Kaldur'ahm."

"Please, my friends call me Kaldur."

I grin and hold out my hand in the pretentious way Bruce always does at fancy parties. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Kaldur. My name is Dick Grayson."

Kaldur does a perfectly executed half bow, and shakes my hand in exactly the proper way, "The honor is mine."

Snickering, I lead him to my room and toss a pile of notebook paper and a few dictionaries on the desk. I've got French, Spanish, German and Ukranian, plus there's like fifty more in the library on the first floor that we can grab if we need them. Then I stretch and do a handstand, feeling the blood rush back to my head.

"So you're Aquaman's partner now?"

Kaldur nods. "My king offered me the position after I helped defend Poseidonis from Ocean Master's attack."

"That's awesome! What's your codename? Have you met any of the other heroes yet?"

"I go by Aqualad. I was briefly introduced to Superman, but I have not yet met any others."

"You're going to love Wally and Roy! They're the other sidekicks, and they're so awesome! We get to patrol together sometimes. You should come!"

"I would like that." Kaldur smiles, "But I am curious to learn some of these other tongues."

A smile spreads itself across my face. "Sure! Let's get started!"

We start with basic phrases like "Hello," "How are you?" "I'm good" and "Do you have any food?" in each language I can remember off the top of my head. I have to correct his pronunciation a little bit at first, but Kaldur picks it up really fast. He's really got an ear for sound. We move into more conversational phrases and by the time Alfred comes in with a plate of freshly baked cookies, we've managed to have an entire conversation switching between Ukrainian, English and Spanish. It's a little slow and very basic, but Kaldur absorbs all the vocabulary like it's air. Or water.

"Would either of you care for some chocolate chip cookies?" Alfred questions during a break in the conversation.

"_Yes please!" _I cheer in Espantean (the mix of Spanish and Atlantean Kaldur invented) and Alfred raises an eyebrow.

"Should I assume that means yes?"

"That would be most kind, thank you," Kaldur says in English, looking sheepish. Alfred smiles.

"Well, you are most welcome, young man. Unfortunately, I must insist that food stays in the kitchen and dining rooms, if you would both come downstairs."

"When's the broadcast starting?" I ask as we follow Alfred down the stairs.

"Any minute now, if I'm not mistaken. Would you like me to turn it on?"

"If you don't mind," Kaldur says formally. Alfred smiles at him and I giggle at the look on his face. It's probably been at least a decade since there was somebody as polite and proper as Alfred in the house. Not even Bruce in his best "Crown Prince of Gotham Society" act comes close to Kaldur's sincerity.

"Your home is beautiful. I don't believe even the museums in Atlantis have such a display," Kaldur says in awe as we pass through the art-lined hallways leading to the kitchen. I know how he feels. I prefer my bedroom and the game room to any of the old Wayne Manor stuff. But Alfred beams and starts telling him about Bruce's grandpa's love of the Old Masters of art and his friendship with an art dealer back in the 1920's and Kaldur looks absolutely amazed. He'll have to come over and hang out more. Anyone who makes Alfred look that happy deserves cookies all the time.

When we reach the kitchen, Alfred lays out a massive plate of my favorite raspberry chocolate chip cookies and pours two glasses of a banana smoothie from the blender. Kaldur and I sit together at the table and Alfred turns on the local news.

"Citizens of Gotham, I am Orin, King of Atlantis. It is a great honor to stand before you on this historic day." Aquaman begins his speech, standing behind a wooden podium on a stage decorated with flags. The flag of Atlantis hangs above his head, and the blue and green lines shine brightly on the tv screen.

Kaldur slurps at his banana smoothie and I reach for another cookie.

"He looks so royal," I say, more than a little awe-struck.

"My king is a great leader," Kaldur answers. "Although it is strange to see him from afar… to not be at his side after all this time seems… wrong."

"Yeah. It's so weird seeing Bruce on tv. Because it's him, but he's kind of just putting on a performance. All the people watching feel like they know him, but it's not really him at all and it's just weird. Even if he's been doing it longer than I've lived with him."

Kaldur is quiet for a second, then he smiles at me.

"It is nice to see people as they are."

I grin back at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! The next chapter will introduce a major character, and then we're at the timeskip.  
I hope you're enjoying and stay tuned for the next chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

Dick Grayson

Gotham City

Sunday, May 13th, 2009

* * *

"They're coming your way," Batman tells me over the comm link.

"Got it." I answer, pulling my grappling hook out of my utility belt and hooking it around the sixth-floor fire escape I've been waiting on since Batman entered the apartment building. The alley below is pretty narrow, only five feet separating this building from the next one.

We were in Midtown closing in on a lead about a warehouse fire Batman has been working on for months when the alarm at Barney's went off. When we got there, we found nothing… until we got to the fifth floor and there was a gaping hole in the ceiling that led up to the private residences above the store. Apparently, a well-known collector lived in one of the apartments and had an impressive collection that tempted these very professional blowy-uppy-happy thieves. So instead of taking them in mid-heist, Batman sent me outside to the fire escape to head them off.

And that's where I am now. Sure enough, the thieves burst through the service door on the ground floor of the Barney's.

"That way!" The thief pants to his friend.

"This way?" I ask, dropping down in front of them.

"Shit! It's Robin!"

"Hi!" I grin. "Any chance I can grab that from you?"

I point to the bag hanging off the taller one's shoulder, and they stare at me, completely dumbfounded.

"Alright." I shrug, and before they can come up with some brilliant move like trying to punch me, I throw a batarang that cuts through the strap. The stolen Beanie Babies spill out of the bag when they hit the ground but they're plushies. They'll be fine. The real question is why anybody would pay $30,000 for a Beanie Baby. Or why these dummies decided that breaking into a collector's house in the middle of the night was a good idea because seriously; who's going to pay money for stolen Beanie Babies?

The thieves shout and scramble to try to pick them back up when a low voice growls through the darkness.

"Don't."

Batman steps out of the shadows and the robbers do the first smart thing they've done all night. They drop the Beanie Babies and put their hands up. Two pairs of bat-cuffs and one call to the GCPD later, Batman and I are standing on the third-floor balcony of the high rise waiting for the cops to show up so we can wrap up patrol for the night.

"Beanie Babies?" I ask for the sixth time.

"Yes."

"But… they're stuffed animals! Anyone with a sewing machine and a little bit of stuffing can make one."

"They're a collector's item."

"Obviously, that collector wouldn't have had so many if they weren't. I get diamonds, or gold or clothes being worth so much, but Beanie Babies?"

"Not my personal choice, but I doubt spending your money on Bat-related crime fighting paraphernalia is on everybody's wish list."

I laugh and the corner of Batman's lip twitches up. It's the closest he gets to a smile in costume.

"Police are here. Time to go," he says.

"Race you to the Batmobile!" I call, already swinging from my Batline. Luckily, the Batmobile is close. We always try to finish patrol near where we started, and this way, my arms aren't going to get tired before I make it back. Before Batman. Somehow, he still manages to pull ahead of me, swinging down to the street and dropping down in front of the Batmobile. I drop down behind him.

Then my mouth drops. The Batmobile is missing its two front tires and a guy in a dark red hoodie is working on a third one. He looks up. There's a moment of silence, where he stares at us and we stare back. He's carjacking the Batmobile. He's in the middle of carjacking the BATMOBILE!

The thief drops his lug wrench and bolts down the alley. Batman and I burst after him, Batman on the ground while I pull out my grappling gun and swing from balconies and streetlights. We're closing in on him, trying to box him into a corner. As he runs, he pushes garbage cans and packing crates in the way. Batman slows down to avoid getting hit by a flying trash lid and the thief ducks between two slates boarding up a warehouse door.It's a tiny space to fit through and that's another blaring alarm that something's wrong with this.

What kind of person steals the tires off the Batmobile?! Nobody's crazy enough to try that!

I scramble through the hole after him, leaving Batman to try to find another way in. The thief's hoodie falls off as he runs. The warehouse is a maze of shipping crates and wooden pallets, but I flip to the top of one and sprint across the tops, cutting off the thief. He spins around in a clumsy fighting stance. My mouth drops open again.

It's a kid. He looks even younger than I am!

"Leave me the hell alone!" He shouts, raising his fists like we're about to throw down.

This kid stole the tires off the Batmobile?! Those things weigh forty pounds each! What the hell?! How?! Why would he try something so stupid?!

The shock and adrenaline from the chase are wearing off, and up close, the kid looks pretty rough. He could use some food, a long shower and an even longer nap. I raise my hands to show him I'm not armed.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I'm Robin."

The kid snorts. "No duh."

"I mean, I'm one of the good guys. I just want to know what you're doing."

"I… just…" The kid swallows before throwing his head back and snarling. "Why do you give a fuck?"

I shrug and try a different tactic.

"Okay. Let's start with this. What's your name?"

"Fuck you."

I can't help myself from grinning, "That's a cool name. How do you spell it?"

The kid glares at me, his eyes darting around the space while he looks for a way out. He glances at the boarded-up doorway and the walls of crates surrounding us, then back at the ground.

"You know, this will go a lot faster if you actually bother to answer."

"What, so I don't inconvenience you while you're dragging me off to juvie?"

I blink.

"Juvie? Look, Fuck You, we just spent all night chasing dead leads around the entire city, some guys almost blew up half a block for a pile of beanie babies, and at this point I just want to get home. I have school tomorrow. So, if the faster you give us our tires back, the faster we can leave you alone."

The kid freezes, caught in some impossible decision before he kicks at the ground and mutters something under his breath.

"What?" I ask.

"It's Jason."

"Cool. I'm Robin." I hold out my hand for him to shake but he ignores it.

"I know." Jason glares at me. He draws himself up and says, "The tires are behind the building. There's a yard and a hole in the fence."

He tries to push past me and slip away. I step in front of him before he can pass through the crates, blocking his exit.

"Why did you steal them?"

"Hey, leave me alone! You said I could go if I told you where they were."

"No, I said this would go faster if you answered my questions."

"You don't scare me. I don't have to tell you anything!"

I grin at him reassuringly, watching his confidence waver. I don't want him to be scared. I want answers.

"I'm not supposed to be scary. That's Batman's job. My job is to ask a million questions and annoy people into telling the truth."

Jason tries to push past me again, but I hold my ground. He lets out a frustrated yell and growls, "Fine! I needed the money! Happy?!"

I pause. He's four inches shorter than me and he's got to be at least two years younger than me. He shouldn't be stealing tires for money, let alone be on the streets at one in the morning on a school night.

"Where are your parents, Jason? They're probably pretty worried about you."

Jason is quiet for a long time and I wait through the silence. He finally hisses, "They're gone. Mom… they're gone."

"I'm sorry."

I decide to take the risk and move closer to him. "My parents are gone too."

Jason looks up at me in total confusion. "But what about Batman?"

"Batman's not my real dad. He just helped me find a new home."

"Really? Batman?" He asks in disbelief.

"Yeah. You know, he might even help you too, if you want."

"I'm not going to an orphanage! Or a foster home. I hate them."

"Some of them aren't so bad. You just have to find the right one."

"I don't need your help."

That's definitely a lie but I don't want to scare him off. So, I nod seriously and sit on a nearby crate. Jason eyes the gap, but doesn't try to make a break for it.

"What do you want then?"

"What?"

"You said you want money, which is why you stole the tires. You took a big risk taking the tires off the Batmobile, so that means you already have somewhere to sell them. But you probably can't get a lot of money from that place since you needed to take the risk at all. Well, you made a really good effort. Seriously, you must be crazy strong to lift those things. It just didn't work out."

"So?"

"So, what do you want to happen next?"

Jason scowls at me. "I want you to take your stupid tires and leave me the fuck alone."

"Sure, that sounds good. We put the tires back on the Batmobile, head back to the Batcave, and you go back to… living on the streets, right?"

Jason's scowl deepens and I barely resist the urge to roll my eyes. But then I remember I have a mask on, so I roll my eyes anyway.

"Alright, say we do that. What happens to you after that? There's not that many jobs available to homeless nine-year-olds, so taking tires isn't going to be a one-time thing. Best case, you steal just enough to get by, nobody notices. But say you get picked up by the cops or someone isn't quite so forgiving about having their tires stolen? Juvie is the best possible outcome."

Jason's still glaring at me, but there's real fear in his eyes and he's starting to sweat.

"Or… I can give you another suggestion. Cooperate with us. Help us get the tires back on the Batmobile, and give Batman honest answers to the questions he's going to ask you. Then, we'll help you find somewhere more permanent."

"I told you, I'm not going to another shitty foster home!"

I take a deep breath.

"Look, Jason… we're more alike than you think. I know what you're feeling right now. You don't want to go to juvie, and I'm sure you've had more than your fair share of crappy foster homes. But I've been there. When my parents died, they didn't have room for an orphaned circus brat, so one of my case workers decided it would be fine to just stick me wherever there was room. If Batman hadn't helped my foster dad track me down, I would probably still be where they left me. So yeah, I get why you're afraid and I can promise you, juvie sucks even worse that you can imagine."

"What?! You were in juvie?"

"Yeah. A week after I turned eight."

"But you… you're… why?"

"Everywhere else was full and my social worker didn't care if another kid slipped through the cracks. Nobody stopped him. Nobody noticed."

Jason meets my eyes and I can almost see the wheels turning in his brain.

"I promise, when I tell you that Batman can help you, I'm telling you from experience. He's the one who'll help you when no one else cares."

Jason hesitates.

"A—and he won't be mad about the tires?"

"Not as long as you put them back," Batman says. Jason jumps a foot in the air.

"What the hell?!"

"Watch your language," Batman says firmly, channeling Bruce so hard I think I'm seeing double. This isn't Batman… this is full on Bat-dad.

"He doesn't let me swear either," I tell Jason with a grin, moving back to give him a little more space to the sides now that Batman is covering the exit. But Batman doesn't say anything, or try to take over the conversation. Instead, he crosses his arms patiently and waits for me to continue.

"Well?!" Jason demands, pacing the small space nervously. "What are you waiting for?"

"We're waiting for you to decide." I say. "What do you want?"

Jason looks back and forth between me, Batman and the blocked escape route. "I… how do I know you're not going to just throw me in some shithole and walk away?"

He's scared and it's impossible to blame him. I take a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

"I'll stay with you. I'll go with you to the police station, and I'll wait with you while Batman makes the arrangements with the foster home and Child Services. I'll even go with you to your foster home and stay until you feel safe."

"Wait… really?"

I nod. "I told you, I'm not letting anyone else go through the same thing I did. I'll stay with you as long as you need."

"What if I hate it?" He shoots back.

"Then we'll try again until you find one you don't hate." I shrug.

Jason looks at the ground, thinking hard. Finally, he looks up and nods.

* * *

Jason squirms on the bench, watching an officer sort through the stack of papers Batman filled out before he left.

"It's going to be fine," I tell him.

"Not that," he grumbles. "I just… don't like it here."

Looking around the police station, I don't blame him. The roof of the Gotham City Police Department is way nicer than the inside and I forgot just how strong the smell of caffeine and sweat is. Plus, I don't have to worry about CPS coming after me or trying to send me back to a foster family that I hate.

"It shouldn't be much longer. Batman has already made some calls, and once he gets the paperwork streamlined, the foster should be here soon."

"You don't know who he's getting, do you?"

I frown. "You've been with me the whole time. He hasn't told me anything yet. But I trust him."

Jason leans back in his chair and pulls his arms tightly around himself.

"Must be nice," he mutters.

"Why don't we talk about something else?" I offer. "Do you like any sports?"

"I play soccer sometimes. Jacob and Arvene are always playing pickup at Fred Wolfe Park."

"Would you ever want to join a team?"

Jason shrugs. "I can't… I mean, I couldn't before. I guess it would be fun."

"There are some great rec leagues. Memorial park just put in a brand-new field."

Jason is quiet.

"Do you play any sports?" He asks.

"I fight crime. That's sort of the only extracurricular I have time for."

"So… what you're saying is I could probably kick your ass on the field?"

I snort. "You wish."

"What, are you scared?"

"Please, I'm not scared of Batman, you think I'm going to be afraid to lose to a nine-year-old?"

"You're not scared of Batman?" Jason asks curiously. I shake my head.

"Nope. He acts all tough, but he's really just a giant nerd. You think they call him the World's Greatest Detective because he runs around punching evil clowns?"

Jason snorts and I grin back at him. There's a commotion at the front suddenly as all the officers stand up and start whispering to each other. Jason looks around nervously and I crane my neck to try to see. Someone just came into the precinct, and by the sound of it, it's someone important.

Ugh.

Why couldn't Batman have just told me who he was going to send? I wish I could tell Jason who it is, but I have no clue either. I watch the Captain leave his office to come personally greet the new visitor, but I can't see who it is until she leads him to a private room. Then my jaw drops open. 

Bruce?! 

What the hell?!

I knew Batman would find somewhere safe for Jason, but I didn't think for a second that he would be the one to take Jason in himself. And why didn't he tell me?!

"Jason?" One of the desk officers comes over. "Are you ready to meet your new foster dad?"

Jason glances at me quickly, and I can see that his nerves have just jumped a thousand percent. Clearly, he's seen Bruce in the news before.

"Do you want me to come in with you?" I offer. He thinks for a second, but then shakes his head and lets the officer lead him into the room that Bruce is waiting in. I watch them go, mind racing a million miles an hour. 

When the hell did Bruce decide he wanted to foster Jason? Will Jason be okay with it? I wasn't exactly crazy about Bruce the first time I met him. And living with him before I knew he was Batman? He was weird and distant and I always felt so alone. If it hadn't been for Alfred, I don't know if I would have even stuck around. Of course, after I snuck out to hunt down Zucco, everything changed. It was like a switch had flipped. Batman is an incredible mentor, and the closer I got to him, the closer I got to Bruce. Now, I can't imagine not having him as my… mentor? Foster dad? And what's going to happen with our secret identities? Is Bruce planning to just keep them a secret from Jason? That's not fair to him, and I don't think I can do it either. And is Jason going to want a foster brother? He might like me as Robin, but I've never had a brother before and he hasn't either. What if I'm awful at it and he hates me?

Someone sits next to me, breaking me out of my thoughts. I jump when I realize who it is.

"Alfred?!"

Alfred smiles at me and winks. "Good to see you again, Mister Robin."

"Did you know Bruce was planning this?" I whisper. Luckily, none of the police officers care much about the sidekick and driver might be chatting about.

"I'm afraid Master Bruce has a rather unfortunate tendency of not sharing information with me, much as Batman appears to have kept you in the dark."

I snort.

"I bet they'd get along really well."

"I rather think not," Alfred answers loftily. "Master Bruce is hardly one for theatricality. You would never catch him running around in one of those ridiculous outfits."

I burst out laughing, and after a second Alfred's mask slips and he joins me. One of the sergeants looks over, but goes back to his paperwork. When we calm down, I take a deep breath.

"Do you think this is a bad idea?"

Alfred thinks for a minute.

"To be perfectly frank, I have absolutely no idea." He looks around the precinct, then says, "I had more than my fair share of doubts when he announced his intentions to foster Master Dick, but I daresay that decision has been more rewarding than I thought possible for all parties involved."

I grin at him and the only thing keeping me from hugging him is the fact that I'm still in uniform. Alfred smiles sincerely and continues.

"I believe there is a chance that the outcome may be similar in this case."

The next forty minutes pass slowly. Alfred makes small talk and I try not to yawn, but for once, he doesn't say anything about me being up so late. When the door finally opens, we both look up in anticipation. Bruce looks determined, and Jason looks completely dazed. Bruce leads him over to where Alfred and I are sitting.

"Jason, this is Alfred Pennyworth. He's been working for my family since I was a kid."

Alfred stands up and shakes his hand firmly.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Jason."

"You too…" Jason says slowly, still in shock.

"I believe Master Bruce has a bit more paperwork to deal with here, but I would be more than happy to take you to the manor. I imagine you've had quite a day."

Jason immediately looks at me. "Is he coming?"

"Yes." I say before either of them can answer. "I promised I'd stay with you until you were ready."

"Very well," Alfred says, retrieving his coat from the chair. "Master Bruce, I will be back when you have finished."

"Thank you, Alfred. Robin, always an honor to see you." I blush. The corner of Bruce's lip twitches up and I know he's teasing me. "Jason, I shouldn't be here too long. I'll see you soon. Okay?"

Jason nods like he barely knows what's happening. "Okay."

"Shall we?" Alfred asks, leading the way to the door. Jason looks around the precinct one last time, his eyes always coming back to Bruce. Then he looks at me, and I smile reassuringly. He nods and follows Alfred out the door. I glance back at Bruce, looking for some sort of clue about what I should be doing, but he just smiles. It's not part of his vapid playboy act. He just genuinely looks happy… and really nervous. Maybe he doesn't know what he's doing either.

I hurry out the door before Jason thinks I abandoned him.

"You drive a limo?!" Jason shouts as I approach. Alfred chuckles and opens the door for him. Jason sits in stunned silence the entire ride home, except to turn to me and ask, "Am I on drugs?" at least fifteen times. I try not to laugh at him, but it's close. When Alfred finally pulls into the long driveway and the manor comes into view, Jason's jaw drops.

"You live here?!"

"Indeed we do, Master Jason."

"Is… is he kidding?" Jason turns to me. I grin at his stunned expression.

"About living here?"

"Uh…Master Jason?" Jason says.

"No, that's really a thing he does."

The car pulls to a smooth stop, and Jason and I climb out. He can't stop staring. He looks exactly the same way I did the first time I saw the manor.

"Welcome to Wayne Manor," I tell him. Alfred leads us inside and Jason takes one look around before his face turns pale. So, instead of overwhelming him any more and giving him the grand tour, Alfred takes us straight to the kitchen and pushes a mug of hot chocolate at each of us. The three of us sit around the counter and listen while Alfred tells us stories about his life in England. He's halfway through the story about how his Uncle George accidentally got himself engaged to a duchess when my communicator beeps.

"Do you have to go?" Jason asks me, immediately on the defensive. I look down at the message.

'In study. Bring Jason.'

"Batman wants me to see something in the… Mr. Wayne's study," I say, looking at Alfred for cues. Alfred straightens and claps his hands together.

"Ah, of course. Jason, you may as well come along. I'm sure you'd love to see more of the house, and I believe Master Bruce will be arriving shortly."

Alfred leads the way, and Jason follows close behind. I chug the rest of my hot chocolate and run after them.

Bruce isn't in his study. Shocker.

Jason is looking around cautiously, and Alfred is going through the piles on Bruce's desk as if looking for the mysterious thing Bruce Wayne told Batman that he would show me. I glance down at my communicator, but then I hear something moving. It's the elevator to the Batcave. Alfred must hear it too because he lets out a huge sigh.

"Jason, I believe there is something immensely important you must know."

"What?"

"Master Bruce tends to be infuriatingly dramatic."

And then the hidden door slides open, revealing Batman standing in the entrance to the Batcave.

"AWESOME!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter brings the time skip! We have to get to the formation of Young Justice somehow, and as much as I love these characters, I don't want to write two years' worth of filler. But for now, Dick has a new younger brother and Bruce has a new son. Sure hope his conveniently-timed appearance doesn't distract Batman from any cases or strange fires he may have been looking into.
> 
> It sure is mysterious!
> 
> Anyways, hope you liked it! Be sure to let me know if you're enjoying it. The next chapter will be up tomorrow and that's when the good stuff starts!


	6. Chapter 6

Saturday, July 3rd, 2012

Wayne Manor

Dick Grayson

* * *

"Ready or not, here I come!"

I pull my hands away from my eyes, scanning around the clearing. I hear giggles coming from within the trees and I sneak forward slowly. For a bunch of little kids with no classical ninja training, they're really good at hiding. Except Cassie, who actually has ninja training, but she's five so it doesn't really count. Or it wouldn't, except for the fact that she's disturbingly good at hide-and-go-seek.

Uh-oh.

Looking around, I see a tuft of black in the bushes next to an abstract stone gargoyle statue. It's got to be Tim. I walk forwards, trying to get a better glimpse of him without giving it away that I found him. Sure enough, my nine-year-old brother is crouched on his knees, peeking between layers of rhododendrons and other assorted shrubbery. I see him convulse with silent laughter. Someone must be making faces at him. I turn around, looking carefully for the telltale blonde hair. Peeking out from underneath a half-buried log is my eight-year-old sister… who is currently sticking her tongue out at me and wiggling fingers around mockingly.

Well that was easy. 

"Stephanie, I see you under the log. Tim, you're under the gargoyle," I announce, tagging them out at the same time. Tim pushes his way through the bushes, happily laughing out loud now that he's out. Stephanie wiggles her way out from underneath the log in a show of flexibility that really shouldn't be possible. Her front is covered in dirt and her fingernails are black from the mud caked underneath them.

"You're never gonna find Cassie!" She giggles.

She's right.

For the next twenty minutes, I search every crawlspace and corner while Tim and Stephanie laugh at me, but I can't find her. Jason is hanging out on a lounge chair and offering helpful suggestions like, "give up!" or "Not even close!" every few minutes. I'd throw my shoe at him but it would just make it worse, and I refuse to let him distract me from finding Cassie. It's only when she decides she's bored that she drops down onto my head from her perch in a tree.

"I win!" she giggles, grabbing at my arms as I lift her off my shoulders. It's her favorite phrase.

"I told her where to hide," Jason slurps at his lemonade, raising the glass at me smugly. He leans back, hands tucked behind his head.

"Taking credit for Cassie's greatness so you can feel better about yourself? I expected better from you." I shake my head at him in shame. Suddenly, Tim lets out a piercing shriek and sprints across the yard. Steph chases after him gleefully, the garden hose clamped in her hands spraying water in a wide arc. The dirt caked all over her clothes has been transformed into thick, goopy mud, but she doesn't care.

"Get him!" She shouts and Jason suddenly has a water gun in his hands. I shift Cassie so she's balanced against my side and turn to face Jason.

"Where did you get that?! You know Bruce hates water guns!"

As an answer, Jason sprays me in the face with water and runs off, cackling evilly. Cassie shrieks with laughter and cheers while I rub the water out of my eyes.

"Go go go!" She giggles, pointing at Steph and Tim.

"We need better weapons," I tell her, moving slowly towards the garden shed across from the gargoyle statue. Jason and Steph have teamed up, trapping a soaking wet Tim between the hose and the water gun. Tim is laughing like a maniac as he dodges streams of water from both sides.

"No!" Cassie whines.

"You can go run around with them," I tease, "But if you want to win, you gotta think bigger."

Cassie thinks very hard, then nods seriously.

"We win," she says finally.

The garden shed is rarely used, but Bruce hires people to groom and manicure the lawns before big events, so it's pretty well stocked. I grab a huge water bucket and fill it slowly from the tap sticking out the side of the wall. I raise Cassie up so she can clamber onto the roof, and hanging the bucket over my right shoulder, I climb up the shed with just a small twinge of soreness near the top. The roof is partially flat, so I set the bucket down and grin at Cassie.

"Okay, it's show time. You have to distract them and lead them over here. Then I'll dump the bucket when you tell me. What do you think?"

Cassie lets out a peal of laughter, putting her chubby hands over her mouth and twisting from side to side adorably. I let out a cackle, then lean over the side to lower her gently to the ground. Cassie runs off. I lay low on the roof, waiting carefully for Cassie's signal.

"Now!"

I dump the bucket over the side and Jason, Steph and Tim let out matching screams as gallons of ice-cold water crash onto their heads. Cassie laughs so hard she falls onto her bottom, then she just laughs harder.

"Get him!" Jason shouts, and the three of them take aim at the roof, "Tim, grab the bucket! I'll go around!"

Steph aims the hose, waving it back and forth in the air so a steady stream of water rains down on me. I cackle as I get pelted by the freezing water, then take two steps and launch myself carefully off the roof. I roll when I land just outside of Jason's reach. Then I start running, with all four of my siblings chasing after me. I sprint to the back door of the manor, where I stop short before colliding headfirst with Bruce. He's wearing a casual suit and setting down a brown shopping bag. In contrast, I'm soaking wet, barefoot, covered in mud and my hair is sticking up everywhere.

"What's the rush?" He teases, taking in my soaked hair and clothes.

"Steph found the hose," I report, grinning widely, "I'm outnumbered, but it's nothing I can't handle."

"I see." His expression becomes mischievous, "Robin, maneuver N!"

His hands lock together in front of him, forming a hold for me to step on. He throws me up and I fly through the air, using the momentum to throw a double back flip and catch the two super soakers he pulls out of the bag and tosses at me. All this happens as my siblings all charge into view, soaking Bruce in a torrent of water before they realize it's not me. I turn and sprint for the garden shed as my siblings freeze in horror. Bruce shakes himself off, glaring at the four of them as they stammer out apologies. Meanwhile, I fill both of the super soakers and strategically place another bucket of water behind the shed to reload.

I run back over in time to hear, "And I don't EVER want to catch you playing with water guns again… without me!"

He signals to me and I throw him his weapon. He catches it in a practiced motion and we launch our attack in unison. They start screaming and laughing and firing back and running around.

"Fall back!" Tim yells.

"No! Stand and fight you cowards!" Steph screams as she sprays the hose with reckless abandon. Bruce and I fight back to back, but our plan of attack quickly falls apart when Jason charges in, throwing water balloons in every direction without caring who gets hit. Steph decides she's being too reserved with the hose and the attack turns into a torrential downpour.

"Watch the hose! I thought you were on our team!" Jason shouts.

"You watch it!" Steph shouts back, spraying Jason in the face. That's when it really turns into a free-for-all. Jason grabs the bucket and launches its contents at Stephanie, catching Cassie in the cross-fire. Cassie shrieks and runs to Bruce, who picks her up in one arm and helps her aim a Super Soaker in revenge. Cassie decides to shoot at Tim instead and Tim runs behind me for cover. We race each other for the Super Soakers and Steph drenches us with the hose while we're refilling. Cassie and Bruce chase Jason while he pelts them with water balloons and it's too good of a target to pass up.

In a once-in-a-lifetime moment, Bruce is too busy laughing to notice the Super Soaker aimed his way and I blast him in the face.

The next thing I know, Cassie jumps ship while Jason, Tim, Steph and I gang up on Bruce. He fights back, but his Super Soaker runs out of water and Jason made a ridiculous number of water balloons so between that, Tim and me firing our Super Soakers and Steph spraying the hose, Bruce is hopelessly outmatched. By the time Alfred comes out with a pitcher of lemonade and a platter of sandwiches, we're all drenched from head to toe. After trying and failing to get Alfred to join in the water fight, he convinces us to pile around the table on the patio and take a snack break.

"Have you thought about what you'd like to do tomorrow?" Bruce asks. He looks ridiculous with sopping wet hair plastered to the sides of his head.

"Picnic!" Cassie shouts, jumping up and down and sending water droplets flying. Jason grabs another sandwich off the platter and makes a face when Cassie splashes water on the

"Is there a fireworks show tomorrow?" Tim asks.

"I want fireworks!" Steph cheers.

"I want to become a member of the Justice League." I beam. Bruce nods at Steph and Tim like he didn't even hear me.

"I'll see what I can do about fireworks. Worst comes to worst, we can go to the Annual cookout the Laraby's throw."

"Bruce, come on! Can't you be a little excited for me?"

"Who said I'm not excited?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Are you?" I shoot back. When he doesn't answer, I throw my hands in the air. "Bruce, come on! I'm joining the Justice League! Why aren't you excited for me?"

"Why can't I come fight crime?" Jason demands, interrupting Bruce when he starts to answer.

"Because it's dangerous."

"So why does Dick get to?"

"Because he has six years of self-defense training and he can keep himself safe in dangerous situations."

"Well, Dick didn't have any training when he started and I've been taking self-defense classes for two years now!"

"Jason, you know the rule. I can only handle one partner at a time. When Robin is ready to work on his own in the field, then I'll think about taking on another partner. Deal?"

"Deal."

* * *

Tuesday, July 6th, 2012

Harris Auto Repair

* * *

When I pull my motorcycle to a stop inside the garage, Slade is supervising work on two old cars that are hoisted up in the air. Sparks fly and machines make loud, grating crashes, but the atmosphere is relaxed and classic rock plays in the background. This is so weird. At night, it's dark and creepy and it feels like a prop, something Slade uses as a disguise. But now, in the middle of the afternoon, it's a real place, filled with people who are just living their lives. They have no idea what's really going on below them. Slade is just using them for his cover.

"You're right on time. Good work."

Slade appears behind me suddenly and I spin around, trying to pretend that he didn't catch me totally off guard. I nod as calmly as I can, hoping he didn't notice. He puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes just enough to be uncomfortable.

"Don't think you fooled me with that. We need to work on your powers of observation."

Alright, so that was a long shot.

"Yes sir." I say sheepishly. Slade chuckles but the sound is muffled by the whirring of a radio arm saw. He inspects the cars for a final time and then pulls over one of the mechanics. She's tall with a ponytail of stringy brown hair and a greasy pair of overalls.

"Charlie, I want you to meet Sam. He's going to be helping me set up that electronic record system you were talking about."

Charlie's grin is friendly despite the crooked front teeth. She holds out an oily glove. "It's about time you finally listen to me, Harris. Nice to meet you, Sam."

That's when I realize "Sam" means me.

"—You too," I say, rushing to hold out my hand and hoping she doesn't notice the delay.

"Finish up these cars and get everyone out by six. I need to hear Sam explain this computer stuff to me and you know I can't hear for shit over the saws."

Charlie laughs, "You should get a hearing aid if it's getting that bad. It's no problem though. We should be able to finish with the Impala tomorrow."

"Good," Slade nods before leading me into the office. It's small. There's a table pushed up against one wall with a desktop computer and stacks of papers on either side. Filing cabinets cover the walls, and papers are stacked everywhere. There's a small door on the right-hand wall, just big enough to be a supply cabinet.

There's a plaque reading, "Alan Harris" on the desk. Slade's alias.

"You can see why we need the electronic records, huh?" Slade says conversationally as he moves behind the desk. "Would you mind shutting the door? It gets so loud in here."

"Uh…" I start. "Are we actually—"

"Maybe at some point."

He strides towards the plain wooden door on the back wall that looks like a closet. He slides a key into the lock and it opens smoothly, revealing a well-lit staircase leading down to his base. I rush to keep up with him as he climbs down the staircase to the metal door. Slade pauses long enough to punch in the code on the door panel before reaching for the thick silver handle. The walk down the twisting, ominous hallways that never makes any sense always makes me nervous. By the time we make it to the study, my heart is pounding furiously and my stomach is churning. Slade points to the folding chair in front of the small table against the wall. I sit without hesitation, waiting for Slade to start talking. My palms are sticky with sweat and I wipe them on my shorts.

"Up to this point, we have mainly focused on your physical abilities, especially combat. However, you've reached a point that you are ready to learn some other skills. One of the most essential things that you will need to know is how to code. I will expect you to become proficient at encrypting and decrypting sensitive information, maneuvering through firewalls, and accessing and disabling security systems. In the future, I will be teaching you more about robotics and the technology that I design and employ. I don't have time to teach you all of this myself. Because of this, I have brought in external assistance."

Slade picks up a laptop from his desk and opens it, typing for a few seconds before placing it in front of me. The screen is black expect for a light blue message at the top of the screen flashing, "Begin Session?"

"I have agreed not to disclose the identity of your new teacher, but rest assured, he is the one of the best hackers in the country, possibly in the world. He will teach you everything that you could possibly need to know."

I hesitate, not sure what the best way is to break it to him. "Uh, Slade?"

"What?" His answer is terse, like a coiled snake.

"I already know a lot about hacking. Batman has been teaching me for a while."

Slade grins, but not in a friendly way. "Then this should be easy for you."

He gestures to the screen. "Begin whenever you are ready. This session will last about an hour, and when you are done, we are finally going to work on your observational skills. Understood?"

I nod quickly. "Yes, sir."

I turn towards the laptop. A line flashes across the screen, waiting for a response. Hesitantly, I type, "Begin" and tap the enter key. The screen changes and turns black, with a small box in the upper right-hand corner that says, "Chat log."

A message appears in the chat box from someone named, "Orange_Soda."

"_Hang on, gimme like 20 seconds."_

I glance around the room, but Slade is gone and I'm not sure what to do. I lean back in the chair and stare at the screen. This is stupid. I already know how to hack. Bruce has been teaching me about computers since I was eight, and I've been coding on my own for years. I helped Bruce develop a new security system for the Batcave's computer network, and I've been working on a new operating system for my laptop at home.

"_My bad, I'm back. Sorry about that."_

I settle my fingers over the keys. I have no idea how to respond, so I type_ "ok."_

"_You don't like to talk much, do you? Hey, that's cool. I don't judge."_

What's going on? I type into the chat bar and watch my question appear.

"_Who are you?"_

"_I'm sorta trying to keep my ID out of this cause your boss is one scary dude, but all you need to know is I'm the best at what I do, bub."_

I stare at the screen, running names of hackers Bruce has been keeping an eye on, but none of them fit the profile. Another message pops up.

"_Aw, come on man! How can you not like Wolverine?"_

"_I don't read comics,"_ I reply. Who is this guy?

"_For real? Who doesn't read comics?_"

Actual superheroes? I don't what to say to that so I just wait. Orange Soda seems to get the message.

"_Let's just get started. Do you have any programming experience?"_

"_Yeah." _I respond.

"_You're not going to make this easy are you? What languages are you comfortable with?"_

"_Python, Java, C++, SQL, html, CSS, Basic, Assembly"_

"_Damn, Assembly? That one's a monster."_

"_Yeah." _One-word answers are working pretty well so far. No reason not to keep going.

"_Any others?"_

"_Scratch."_

"_Very funny._

"_Do you know anything about security systems?"_

"_I know how to find backdoors."_

"_That's a good place to start. You ready?"_

After a pause, I shrug.

"_Sure."_

The screen splits in half. The bottom is still black, but the top now has an image of a file.

"_Get the file open without tripping the system alerts. You have one hour."_

Easy.

I try to open the file. Surprise, it asks for a password. I click the black space at the bottom of the screen and watch a line spring into existence in the command prompt window.

This might actually be fun.

* * *

"_Nice work, kid. Definitely better than I was expecting."_

"_Thanks."_

"_We'll start with encryption keys next week. Hardison out."_

"_Don't you mean Orange Soda?"_

"_Nah, you seem cool. Call me Hardison. Don't tell your boss."_

The screen turns black and reflects Slade standing behind me. I don't react when his hand reaches forwards to close the computer and return it to his desk.

"How did it go?"

"That guy knows a lot about computers," I answer, showing that he didn't catch me off guard. Slade pauses, watching me carefully.

"What's wrong?"

I frown.

"Nothing."

"You were enjoying yourself five minutes ago. What's wrong." It doesn't sound like a question. It sounds like an order.

"You heard about the…" I pause. "The sidekicks being inducted into the League?"

Slade inclines his head but he doesn't say anything. The silence stretches out, filling the space with agonizing awkwardness.

Finally, I force out, "They lied to us."

"Did they now?" Slade manages to sound disinterested, but there's a weird tension in his stance that says otherwise. I shouldn't tell him this. But it's nothing he hasn't already guessed.

"They lied about everything. They told us we were joining the League! They told us that we'd been working hard and we'd earned it. Ugh! They were so full of shit—"

"Language, Richard." Slade interrupts warningly. I barely resist the urge to roll my eyes, but I correct myself anyways.

"…full of it, and I… we believed them. And now Speedy is gone and now we're stuck waiting for Batman to decide if we even get to have our own team."

"That wouldn't have had anything to do with Cadmus, would it?"

I stiffen.

"What do you know about Cadmus?"

Slade rolls his eye at me.

"Just that there were reports of a fire which was put out by Aqualad and Kid Flash, and presumably Robin. Then, several hours later, the entire building collapsed. It didn't take much to put two and two together."

"I guess. But we only went there because the League tried to leave us behind on a mission!"

"I take it the induction didn't go as well as you'd hoped?"

I snort.

"It wasn't an induction, it was a 'here's the waiting room now sit quietly and don't bother us. Oh yeah, not to mention that we've been lying to you about the actual headquarters being in space!'"

Slade's eye widens by a fraction of an inch. Oh shit. He definitely didn't know that. Shit, I was not supposed to say that.

"You can't tell anyone that!"

"I know our agreement." He reminds me calmly.

Oh yeah. He'll keep my secrets in exchange for… whatever he gets out of training me.

He's still waiting expectantly, in no hurry to move on. What the hell. It's not like I have anything to lose by telling him this. I slouch back against my chair and tug on my hair.

"That isn't the worst part either. All this time, everything I was working for, I thought I was making a difference. But he's been lying to me about… about everything! I thought the Hall was the League's real headquarters. I've been Robin for five years and he's never told me the truth! I've fought with all of them before and I've known them all since I was eight! I was the first sidekick and I deserve to be out there as much as any of them! There's nothing else I can do to prove that to them! And! Captain Marvel has only been a hero for like, eight months tops and they trust him!"

Slade snorts, shaking his head dismissively.

"From what I've seen, Captain Marvel has the powers of a god and the intelligence of a five-year-old. It seems bringing him into the League is more about keeping an eye on him than out of any so-called trust."

"That doesn't make me feel any better," I lie. Does Slade have any idea how close he is? Underneath the magic powers that transform him into an adult, Billy's the same age as Tim. There's no way he actually knows that, though.

"Personally, I believe that capability should speak for itself. If the League can't see what's really in front of them rather than what they believe to be, then they are more-so the fools."

My stomach clenches at his words. The sincerity in his voice makes the corners of my mouth rise in a hesitant smile but there's something that doesn't seem right about it. He wouldn't say anything just to make me feel better. Maybe it's the way he said, "fools," like he's so much smarter than all of them, like he'll always be ten steps ahead. Even though I might be mad at them, having Slade know all of their secrets while they don't even know he's watching just… freaks me out. I know a lot of secrets that aren't mine to give away. I can't let myself forget that.

"So what will you do now?" He asks suddenly, startling me out of my thoughts.

"What? I told you, we're waiting for Batman to make a decision."

"Not about that. Now you know that the League has lied to you, you know that despite what they may say, they don't trust you. Regardless of what your mentor decides, that will not change the fact."

The protest on the tip of my tongue dies before I can open my mouth. He's right. They all lied to me. Every compliment any Leaguer has ever given me… they're all meaningless. I've seen the hidden looks and stifled giggles and I just ignored them, because I thought that underneath, they respected me. I thought at least Superman would be sincere, but after what happened at Cadmus I don't really know what to think about him right now. But Aunt Diana? Wonder Woman?! If there was anyone on the planet I could trust no matter what, it would be her. I don't get it! Why didn't any of them tell me about the Watchtower? Why did Ollie have to tell Roy? Why did they lie to us at all? I don't get it!

"I don't know what I'm going to do. I can't give up being Robin, and I can't pull a Speedy and just go off on my own. He's eighteen and I haven't even started high school. And I couldn't walk away from Batman even if I was. But I just don't get it! Why didn't they tell us?"

"Because they don't trust you. You're a hyperactive thirteen-year-old who's incapable of following orders."

"No, I'm not." I growl, wincing when I hear how whiny it sounds.

"Regardless, that is how they see you."

"But that's not fair!"

"Do you really think anything is?"

"That's not the point! They lied to me and now they just expect me to ignore it! I can't!"

"So, what can you do?" Slade asks again. My hands curl into fists but it's not him that I'm mad at. I look at the ground and shrug.

"I don't know. If I make trouble, it'll just prove to them that they were right not to trust me. But if I just… ignore it, I don't know. That's easier said than done."

Slade doesn't say anything for a few seconds, then he shakes his head.

"There aren't any easy answers here. Focus instead on what you can do, here and now."

"Which is?"

"Train harder."

He gets up and leaves the office. I follow him to the end of the hallway and through the last door. The lights spring on to reveal the huge gym, complete with treadmills, weight machines, racks, and an enormous sparring mat that covers two-thirds of the floor.

"Catch."

I barely bring my hand up in time to stop the training sword from nailing me in the head. Slade shakes his head while I fumble with it.

"You'll have to do better than that."

"A little warning would have been nice!"

"You won't get a warning in live combat. You should know that by now or you have no business being out in the field."

"I know that!" I snap, getting into a defensive position with the wooden sword held out in front of me. Slade walks onto the training floor and raises his own sword. "But I don't expect people to randomly attack me at any second!"

"You should." He answers. I brace for the attack but he doesn't move. "Always be on guard. You might think there are places where you're safe, or people you can trust, but just remember, if you want to keep yourself and others safe you have to beat your opponent every single time."

My left knee gives out and the floor rushes up to slam into my back and the impact knocks the wind out of me. I never even saw Slade move. But he's leaning over me now, both of our training swords crossed over my neck with a little too much pressure.

"Someone who's trying to hurt you only has to beat you once."

My stomach clenches, but before I can think of anything to say, the swords are gone and he's helping me back to my feet. Slade hands me back my sword and as soon as I have it, I drop into a fighting stance except this time, I start moving. He's not knocking me off balance again.

"Better." Slade says.

I attack first this time, swinging at his chest. His sword blocks my strike and the rebound hurts my hands. Pressing against his sword for momentum, I spin and back-kick him in the stomach. Slade steps back and swings his sword straight down. A backwards roll carries me out of the way and I flip up onto my feet. Charging forwards, I slash out. When Slade dodges, I slam the end of my sword into the ground and launch myself into the air. I flip over Slade's head and extend my legs, kicking him between the shoulder blades. I land behind him and jab at his exposed back. Slade spins and knocks my strike away. He slashes at my head and I duck, pulling my sword across my body to block his foot before he can kick me in the face. I manage to hold on to the sword… barely. But the second his foot hits the ground his sword is swinging down and whacks me on the shoulder hard enough to make my arm go numb.

"Ow!" I jerk backwards, trying to widen the distance but Slade follows. Sword strikes followed by kicks and punches and no matter how many times I block or dodge, Slade always finds an opening.

"When fighting a superior opponent, you have to take advantage of openings when you find them. If you're only defending, you'll leave yourself vulnerable."

"You're not exactly giving me a lot to work with!" I shoot back, trying to block a strike while ducking under a kick from the other side.

Slade pulls his sword back and in the half-second before his next strike, I lunge at him, flipping my wrists over to slam the hilt of my sword into his chest. I twist the sword for a strike to his shoulder and follow with a side-kick. He stumbles back and we take a second to readjust our stances. We're both winded and sweat drips down my face. My palms are sweaty and I wipe them on my tank top.

"Much better." Slade praises. "Now let's see how you do against someone who's not holding back."

"What?"

I'm far enough away this time that I have time to see Slade rush me. I bring my sword up as he swings, but if I thought it was hard before, I can feel the hit from my wrists all the way up to my shoulders. And my arm barely stops stinging when a hand closes around it and then I'm in the air.

I twist around so I land on my feet, but Slade is already swinging. Forget finding an opening; this is a battle for survival. I block and twist and duck and dodge and Slade's sword finds weak spots no matter what I do. I block a strike at my shoulders, Slade twists his wrist and sends my blade flying while his other hand latches onto my arm and throws me to the ground. I hit the mat.

"Again."

I stagger to my feet and Slade throws me back my sword. As soon as I catch it, he charges.

Dodge. Block. He tries the same wrist lock and I pull my sword back, giving me an opening to kick his chest. He catches my foot in one hand and sends me to the ground. I hit the mat.

"Better but don't telegraph so much. Again."

I nod and climb back to my feet. Before I can even raise my sword, his blade slashes through the air where my head was. The duck turns into a roll and I push out of the roll into an aerial, slashing out as I land. Slade blocks and counters with a series of rapid strikes. I block, keeping my sword close to my chest and when Slade swings at mid-height, I see an opening. I turn my wrist the same way he did, but instead of disarming him, I abort the move halfway through and kick his knee, slashing upwards to whack the side of his head.

It worked!

Slade drops to one knee and brings a hand up to his jaw. He looks up, and there's a glint in his eye as he reaches for his sword.

"Good job. Again."

I scramble back to give myself a few seconds to breathe, but I can't stop the smile on my face. Who cares what the League thinks anyway? I just landed a hit on Slade. Take that, Captain Marvel!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While this isn't a really crossover, Hardison is a professional hacker from a show called Leverage. It's a very fun and distinctive show and I highly recommend you check it out. Some of the other characters may be making a brief appearance later.
> 
> Here's an outline of the events from the time skip.
> 
> Jason gets adopted following the events of the last chapter. It's not the smoothest transition, but he's happy overall. He quickly settles into the role of annoying younger brother, which Dick finds irritating but not-so-secretly loves being a big brother. A few month later, the minor villain Cluemaster gets busted by Batman, leaving a six-year-old named Stephanie with nobody to take care of her. Bruce takes her in too.
> 
> The neighbors, Jack and Janet Drake, get into a car accident that kills Janet and leaves Jack in a permanent care facility. Their seven-year-old son Tim comes to live with the Waynes, but he goes to visit his dad frequently. Tim considers Dick, Jason and Stephanie to be his siblings even though they're not related.
> 
> Slade arranges for Dick to come train with him every three weeks. It doesn't matter what the excuse is. Maybe he pretends it's a tennis program that he's doing with one of his friends. If you've ever done sports as a kid, you'll understand that busy parents don't want to sit and watch their kids. The point is, it's infrequent enough with a believable enough excuse that not even Batman's paranoia picks up on Dick going to some workout for an hour and a half every couple of weeks. Of course, it helps that Bruce now has four children to take care of and Dick is very reliable in every other way.
> 
> Now we time skip to about 18 months later. Lady Shiva, a dangerous assassin and expert martial artist, corners Batman on patrol and practically throws a five-year-old Cassandra Cain at him. Batman, having no other course of action, takes her back to the Batcave where the four children living under his roof immediately fall in love with the toddler. So now it is six months later, and Bruce has two daughters and three sons.
> 
> Thanks for reading and be sure to let me know what you think!


	7. Chapter 7

Saturday, July 17th, 2012

Star City

Dick Grayson

* * *

I admit it. Slade was right. After a long sparring session and a full night of sleep, I felt better about everything. Especially when Bruce called me to the Batcave to tell me that he'd reached a decision and we got to see Mount Justice—our new hideout! Seeing Kid Flash and Aqualad so excited makes it perfect. There's only one thing missing.

Ever since the Triad Takedown three years ago, the three of us have free reign in anyone else's cities. Wally and I can show up in Star City to hang out with Roy any time, and the same goes for me and Roy in Central (even if Bruce is still too paranoid to let them patrol in Gotham). So when Wally, Kaldur and I show up at Green Arrow's latest hideout looking for Roy, he doesn't even bat an eye.

"Last I heard, he was tracking down some dealers by the docks, but he doesn't really tell me anything anymore." The archer says, aggressively shooting bullseye after bullseye. By the time we arrive at the docks, Speedy is flipping around a loading platform as he dodges the gunfire. He destroys the gun and the boss guy's custom-tailored suit with a perfectly aimed explosive arrow. Before any of the other goons can fire at him, Kid Flash speeds through, disarming everyone he passes.

I fire my grappling gun at Roy's platform and swing across the loading zone, cackling as the night breeze ruffles my cape. Two of my birdarangs disarm the goons Kid Flash missed. As I land, Aqualad ignites his water-bearers and knocks them against a crate. Speedy is still fighting the big guy, dodging huge chunks of earth and metal, but his arrows aren't doing much. Aqualad slices through one of the boulders, giving Speedy an opening to fire a gas-releasing arrow.

"The cave is perfect," Aqualad says, unable to keep his excitement out of his voice as he deactivates his weapons, "It has everything the team will need."

Jumping down from my perch on top of a stack of crates, I add, "For covert missions. You know, spy stuff."

Kid Flash races up the side of the crate, flipping when he gets to the top. "And wait till you see Superboy and Miss Martian. But I saw her first."

Aqualad and I roll our eyes in sync. The corner of Speedy's mouth twitches up into a smile, breaking through his serious demeanor for a second. The leader of the goons gets back up, chucking a massive boulder at us with an angry grunt. Speedy, Kid Flash and I scatter in different directions while Aqualad easily smashes through the rock with his water-maces. On his right side, Speedy launches three explosive arrows that don't have any effect on the meta-human. He notches another arrow, and I recognize it as one of his foam arrows. I fight back a laugh when the goon spreads his hands wide, daring Speedy to shoot.

He shoots.

The arrow lands in the center of the guy's chest and rapid-hardening foam bubbles out. In seconds, he's trapped. Kid Flash skids to a stop in front of Speedy.

"High-density polyurethane foam," he whistles, "Nice."

Speedy turns away from him and I jump to the reason why we really came.

"So, Speedy, you in?"

"Pass." He turns on me, his face set in a deep scowl. "I'm done letting the Arrow and the League tell me what to do."

As he continues his rant about being treated like a joke, it brings up doubts I didn't even know I'd been thinking.

What if he's right? What if the only reason the team exists is to keep us sidekicks out of the League's way? To keep us in our places? It's like Slade said about Captain Marvel; they want us close so they can keep an eye on us. Batman would never do that to me… would he? Except he lied to me about joining the League. He never would've told me if Speedy hadn't thrown the truth back in their faces.

"Roy, are you serious?" Kid Flash asks.

"It's Speedy," Speedy snaps angrily. "Actually, you know what? It's not Speedy. I'm done being Arrow's sidekick."

"I understand," Aqualad says, disappointed. "I had hoped that you felt differently, but I will respect your decision."

"Good."

Speedy slings his bow over his shoulder and starts walking away.

"Are you kidding me?!" I shout. Startled, the other three look at me.

"You're seriously going to say all that shit about us and walk away?! What the actual hell, Roy?! What's wrong with you?"

Speedy snorts.

"The only thing wrong with me is that I've put up with the League and their shit for as long as I have."

Kid Flash and Aqualad look at each other.

"Dude… I know you're upset and all, but you're really acting weird." Kid Flash says. "You never let Rob swear that much."

"Well, maybe it's not my job to baby him anymore. Maybe I have bigger things to worry about than if he wants to say a potty word."

Baby me?! That's it.

"You know what, Speedy?! I was upset that you walked out. I wanted you to be on this team with us, but now I'm glad you're not because I don't want you on it! Just go off and do that stupid be your own man thing. See if I care!"

I pull out my grappling gun, fire at a nearby scaffold and swing away.

"Rob!" Kid Flash calls, "Nice going, Roy."

From the top of the scaffold, I glance back in time to see Aqualad shake his head at Speedy and jump off the shipping crates. By the time I stop swinging and jumping from crate to crate, they've both managed to catch up with me.

"He didn't mean that," Wally says.

"And I don't believe you truly meant what you said either," Kaldur adds.

"What's wrong with him?!"

"He is acting very strange." Kaldur agrees. "He is… very upset at discovering the League's deception."

"Yeah, well so are we!" Wally spits. "They lied to us to, and you don't see us throwing our hats on the ground and stomping off."

"No. Just breaking into secret undercover laboratories against strict orders to remain in the Hall."

"Don't pretend you weren't right there with us!" Wally yells at Kaldur.

"I was joking," Kaldur says quietly and Wally deflates.

"I thought he'd listen to us." I huff.

"I did as well." Kaldur leans back, head against the wall. 

Wally starts to sit down, but pauses. Then he stands bolt upright and snaps, "You know what? Screw Speedy! Who cares if he's throwing a stupid temper tantrum over being treated like a kid? He's just proving them right!"

Kaldur and I look at each other.

"I'm sick of it! We found and rescued Superboy by ourselves! And destroyed Cadmus's illegal cloning facility! Maybe the League isn't happy about it, but they gave us a base and we get to call ourselves a team. That's not nothing! And I'm done letting Roy pretend it is."

He holds out his hands to pull us up.

"I'm going to go run a late patrol around Central. You guys coming or not?"

* * *

Sunday, July 18th, 2012

Mount Justice

* * *

"Guess if we're going to have a babysitter, a heartless machine is exactly what we need," I frown, gesturing at the android heading for the Zeta beams.

"Dude, harsh!" Wally hisses.

"And inaccurate. I have a heart. Carbon-steel alloy." He turns, and his eye sockets are glaring waves of invisible irritation. "I also have excellent hearing."

Wally and Miss Martian wince. Behind me, I can feel Superboy and Kaldur wince too.

"Hah, right," I say, taken aback. Is that it? From Batman, a warning like that would be accompanied by another dozen rounds of katas. From Slade, it would mean a few rounds of full-contact sparring that end with my face meeting the floor. "I'll strive to be… more accurate?"

"And more respectful," Kaldur's hand lands on my shoulder, squeezing lightly. I jump. Slade does that as a warning that I've made one joke too many, and I hate that it feels the same from anyone else.

"I guess that's that," Wally sighs. "Is it too much to hope that they actually start telling us about guys like Mr. Twister next time?"

"I believe that is truly asking too much." Kaldur shakes his head, almost joking but not quite. "Shall we?"

We turn towards the zeta beam and the massive disks start spinning as the lights turn on.

"You guys are leaving?" Miss Martian asks. The three of us turn around to see her standing in the doorway, one hand on her arm in a half-hug. Behind her, Superboy is leaning against the wall of the hallway, looking like he's trying not to pay attention.

"We'll be back for training on Tuesday." I shrug. Miss Martian wilts like I just kicked her puppy. Which I would never do. Why is that even an expression?

"Unless you had something else in mind?" Wally grins, raising an eyebrow suggestively. I smack him in the stomach and shoot him a mild Batglare.

"Well, I thought we could do some team stuff. I mean, I know obviously we're a superhero team and we're not a 'social club' or anything and we just went on a mission, but I know it's customary on Earth to do some team bonding activities. I read in a magazine once that spending some time together outside of whatever the oriented goal is can strengthen relationships and I just thought it could be fun!"

Miss Martian blushes. Wally and I look at each other. When Red Tornado suggested we just enjoy each other's company, it pissed me off. It just seemed like the League trying to keep us busy and out of the way. But when Miss Martian says it, it sounds like it could be kind of fun. I mean, there's no reason we can't be a superhero team that's also friends with each other, right?

"What did you have in mind?" Kaldur asks.

"Oh! Um, we are right on the water, so maybe we could do a beach day? Or, the rest of the mountain is pretty heavily forested, we could go for a hike… or if we wanted we could take the bioship out further. I've heard the Wolf Hill Forest preserve has some amazing trails! Or if you guys don't want to do that, there are a lot of malls around here. Malls are fun places to hang out, right?"

"Not sure today is the right day, but camping could be pretty fun," Wally suggests.

"I'm up for it," I agree. "Tuesday night, after training?"

"Assuming the League doesn't need us to go save the world or anything," Wally agrees. Kaldur snorts, but it's definitely less sarcastic than his usual snorts.

"Sounds great!" Miss Martian floats a foot off the ground and touches back down. Wow I wish I could fly. Imagine the kinds of trapeze stunts I could do if I could literally turn gravity off.

"We could do something now too, if you want." I say.

"Sure! The cave has a great entertainment system! The hologram projector has an air hockey table, but I haven't had a chance to look at it yet."

"Are there movies?" Superboy asks suddenly. Yikes. Almost forgot he was there. But on the upside, he's nailing the brooding from the shadows thing. If Superman really doesn't want him, he'd fit right in with us Bats.

"I've never seen one before," he says defensively, crossing his arms over his chest. Suddenly, there's a burst of air and Wally isn't standing next to me anymore. He's got one arm around Superboy's shoulder as he leads him down the hall towards the living room and the giant tv.

"-got so much to show you, young grasshopper. Star Wars, Star Trek, Iron Man, dude you'd love that one, it's a live-action remake about a character from this comic book, Fight Club's always a classic…"

"Ferris Bueller's Day Off!" I call, before jogging after them.

"Nice one, thanks Rob. Uh, Die Hard, Indiana Jones-"

"Jaws." Kaldur offers. Miss Martian giggles.

"I've seen Earth television shows, but I don't know if I've ever seen a movie." She admits as we enter the living room.

"Well, there's a lot of ground to cover. Where do you want to start?" I ask, making a beeline for the television set. There's a remote somewhere, but no sign of any DVDs or Netflix hookup. But there is a port that connects into my wrist computers, so we're good. Wally looks up from his phone and makes a face.

"According to Rotten Tomatoes, the best movie of all time is the Wizard of Oz, so that site is stupid."

"You don't like the Wizard of Oz?" I ask.

"You do like it?" Wally retorts.

"What's it about?" Miss Martian asks earnestly. Superboy leans forwards, trying to read the screen of Wally's phone.

"A girl from Kansas gets caught up in a tornado that takes her to a realm called Oz, where she and her companions must seek aid from the Wizard to defeat the Wicked Witch of the West," Kaldur explains. "It is quite a compelling tale."

Maybe watching something about tornados isn't the best idea right now, given the whole Red Tornado and Mr. Twister thing, but Superboy actually looks interested.

"Your tornados were pretty cool," Miss Martian says shyly. Wally blushes bright red before getting a flirty look on his face. I brace myself.

"Thanks, Megalicious. You know, sometime I could show you what a real—"

"I believe that is enough, Kid." Kaldur steps in firmly. Miss Martian and I smile gratefully, but before I can say, "THANK YOU," Kaldur presses his hands over my ears and adds, "After all, there are children present."

"Hey!" I push him off, but he lets go without letting me even throw him in revenge. Kaldur gives me his most self-satisfied grin and steps back, hands raised innocently.

'Fish Food.' I mouth at him. Kaldur grins even wider.

"I will disconnect this tv," I threaten, "Don't think I won't!"

"My apologies," Kaldur says smoothly, bowing deeply in a picture of diplomatic serenity. I give him one last glare before I pull up the movie, but when I turn away, I'm grinning like a maniac. I missed Kaldur's ridiculous stoic sense of humor.

* * *

Wednesday, July 21st, 2012

The Haunt, Gotham

* * *

The garage is a hub of loud machinery, music blasting over speakers and workers leaning back from half-built cars to fan themselves. An army of fans are chugging away in the corner, trying their best to cool down the space but it's a lost cause. Even with the bay doors open, it's a furnace in here. Charlie and two other mechanics are drinking beers on the old couch in the corner.

"Hey Sam," Charlie waves as I walk over. Her hair is sticking to her face and neck, sticky with sweat. "Nice day, right?"

"It's so hot in here! You need to install AC or something!"

She shrugs. "It's not so bad. We're off in an hour anyways."

"If you think it's bad in here, the office is an oven," one of the other mechanics warns me. I think his name is Mark. I glance at the closed office door.

"Is he in?"

Charlie shrugs. "I think so. He's been making calls all morning, so I'd knock first. He can be a real ass about that."

Great.

"Thanks."

"How's the computer stuff going?" The other mechanic asks. Jared, maybe?

I make a face. "I got the system installed no problem. But now I have to teach him how to actually use it."

Mark laughs at me. "I got a six-year-old who already knows how to work a phone better than I ever will. Drives her crazy. I wish you the best of luck."

"But at least you're getting paid," Charlie claps me on the back. I can't help but grin back at her. Getting paid. Yeah, right.

"I better get going."

"Have a good one," Charlie finishes her beer. I'm still smiling as I knock on the office door and Slade's voice calls, "It's open."

"How was camping?" Slade asks as I walk into his office. The door clicks shut behind me. I stare at him, mind flooding with memories of my teammates relaxing around a campfire, telling stories and trying to scare each other.

"How did you…"

"If we're being honest, the words you and camping do not belong together. It was more of a shock than actual interest."

I stare at him, trying to think of something to say but what comes out is a defensive, "I like camping!"

Slade rolls his eye and spins his chair so he's facing me.

"Let's go."

I follow him through the secret closet door and down into the hideout. Every time I come down here, it seems like there are more and more hallways and doors and I never remember how we got anywhere. It's all the same gray steel walls and concrete floors.

He holds the door to his office open and says, "So it seems Batman made his decision."

I freeze.

How does he know about that? Suddenly, the comment about camping seems a little more sinister. How did he find out about that?

"What... why do you think so?"

Slade laughs. "So paranoid, aren't you? Last week, you walked through that door like you wanted to punch anything that moved. Right now, you're practically bouncing out of your seat. Ergo, your frustrations with your mentor have been resolved, and I presume you're happy with the outcome by the smile you keep trying to hide. As far as camping goes, you smell like smoke and I haven't heard any reports of arson in the last few days. Your sneakers are also covered in grass and mud, which means you were outside for an extended period of time recently. Put that all together, it's a safe assumption."

"Oh."

I look down, my face heating up. What's wrong with me? Slade doesn't spend his time watching me. Besides, even if he did, the only way he would've actually known that I went camping with my new teammates is if he'd hacked Mount Justice's computer systems, and to do that he'd have to get through all of the League's security systems and defenses. I couldn't even do that without prior access codes, which he doesn't have.

Slade saved my life. He's on my side, and everything he does, he does it to help me. I can trust him to keep my secrets.

"I take it they've forgiven the three of you for singlehandedly taking down an illegal genetic engineering ring?" Slade asks.

"Yeah. We're a team now."

"And?"

"And… I think this is good."

Slade sits behind his desk, and I sit in the folding chair across from him.

"It seems this is a convenient arrangement. Maybe too much so."

"Speedy thought so. And I guess, he got the rest of us messed up about it, but he was wrong. No, it's not the same thing as being made real members of the League, and yes, I'm still angry that they lied to us. But this team isn't a joke either. We're going up against real threats, and we've already won once."

"Good. I'm glad for you. I know you were upset, and it would have been a waste of your skills otherwise. That being said, this team may become quite a time commitment. I am concerned that it may impede on our schedule."

"It won't. I'll make time. Besides, Canary only has us training twice a week."

"Is she your team leader?"

"No, we don't actually have a leader yet. But Red Tornado is our… supervisor. And we're technically Batman's team."

"Interesting. I've heard very little about Red Tornado and seen even less. He wouldn't have been my first thought for a supervisor."

"Mine either. But he let us handle it on our own with Mr. Twister, and I mean, he's a robot. He's kind of just there."

Slade nods, looking thoughtful.

"You said Mr. Twister? I haven't heard of him."

"Um… He was a robotic suit with tornado powers piloted by another robot. We aren't sure who was behind it."

"Well, there aren't that many players capable of that degree of robotics. Ivo certainly, Toymaker, Magnus, but they'd hardly have the motive…"

"Magnus? Who's that?"

"Doctor Magnus was a student of T.O. Morrow's. A truly brilliant man, he was the creator of the Metal Men."

"Uh…"

"The Metal Men were a robotic superhero team during the 1980's. Unfortunately, they were destroyed in battle against another of Magnus' creations after he was abducted by a terrorist cell in Austria. Magnus's current whereabouts are unknown, and he has never quite recovered from the experience."

"I've never heard of any of them."

Slade looks thoughtful. "That could be dangerous. This team of yours may come across any number of villains that you may never have heard of. I can teach you about the major players and make sure you are prepared should you engage them."

"You'd do that?"

"I'll work on a draft for you. When you go home, do your best to research the names and find out their background, abilities, weaknesses and affiliations. Next week, I'll quiz you and provide any information you may have missed."

"Okay."

"Good. We're working on hand-to-hand today, correct?"

I nod.

"Go get changed. I'll meet you in the gym. No weapons."


	8. Chapter 8

Thursday, July 22nd, 2012

Santa Prisca

Dick Grayson

* * *

"Another time then," Kobra says, before backing into the jungle. He disappears ominously into the night. 

I sprint forwards, pushing aside the thick vegetation but it's no use. He's gone, blending into the shadows the same way Batman and I do every night in Gotham. If Batman were here, I'd go after Kobra. Squinting into the darkness, I can see the faint movement in the treetops, divulging the path he traveled. I could track him down, but after my embarrassing failure to land a single hit on him, I don't really want to try.

Besides, I can't run off on my team again.

I make my way back towards the clearing in front of the warehouse. Miss Martian descends from the sky, shaking her head to signify that Kobra's men have cleared out. Superboy's shirt is in tatters, but otherwise he, Aqualad and Kid Flash are unharmed. Behind them, the factory is in flames, black smoke billowing out the windows and holes in the ceiling.

I smile.

"We picked the right guy to lead," I smile, walking forwards towards Aqualad. I point at him, then step forwards, spreading my arms wide to gesture at the fire. "Automatically making you the right person to explain all this to Batman."

Oh, Bruce is going to be pissed. He assigned us a covert mission to observe only, and instead, we blew everything up, ran Kobra and his cult off the island and accidentally reinstated Bane's control over the factory.

Back in the bioship, the atmosphere is tense now that the initial exhilaration of victory has worn off. Even though we won, Sportsmaster still got away and we majorly failed the whole 'covert' thing. Even if Batman isn't furious, will the League still allow the team? This was a trial mission, and we couldn't complete the objective. I glance at Kaldur again and guilt pricks at my stomach. I sigh, the corner of my mouth pulling down unhappily. I can't let Kaldur take all the blame for this. It's not his fault that the mission didn't work out and his plan actually worked. Even if the Justice League decides that the Team can't continue, we need to act like a team. Besides, he's my friend and I'll always have his back.

We make it back to the cave at two in the morning. We didn't talk much during the flight and everyone is exhausted from the mission. Superboy has been playing with his ruined shirt the whole time. Wally fell asleep in about two seconds and he snored steadily through the entire flight. Kaldur hasn't said a word. He just stared at the wall of the bioship, deep in thought.

"We're here," Miss Martian announces and the seat restraints fall away. I stand up and stretch my back, listening to the cacophony of cracks that come out. I hate sitting still. Wally is slumped over in his chair so I walk over and flick his ear.

"KF! We're back, get up!"

"Uh... what?" He stirs, blinking violently. A yawn splits his face before he opens his eyes.

"We're at Mount Justice," I tell him. He yawns again and then nods in understanding. Miss Martian raises her hand to open the bioship hatch but before she can do anything, Kaldur says, "Wait."

We all turn to face him.

"I know this mission did not turn out as planned, but I wanted you all to know that I am proud to be on this team with all of you. I am proud of what we have accomplished tonight."

I smile and nod back at him. Kid Flash grins, "Speedy was so wrong."

Miss Martian hesitates before getting the courage to say, "We do make a good team."

We all grin at her before looking at Superboy. He crosses his arms and his mouth moves into a shape that could only be a smile.

"You guys are all right, I guess."

* * *

Tuesday, August 3rd, 2012

Mount Justice

* * *

The whistle blows as Wally scores again. Kaldur looks down in dismay as he misses the holographic puck and loses the tournament. The holographic table lets out a series of beeps. Wally takes a bite of his banana, grinning arrogantly at Kaldur. Kaldur glares back. Before any of us can say anything, the cave computer system announces "Recognized: Superboy, B-04."

Superboy storms into the cave, looking furious. M'gann smiles warmly.

"Hi Superboy! How was Metropolis?"

He ignores her and marches straight through the table, causing the hologram to deactivate. Wally, Kaldur and I stare at him. Apparently, Metropolis did not go well. If Bruce doesn't get to it first, I'm going to have a serious talk with Uncle Clark. Someone clears their throat behind us softly.

"Ready for training, everyone?" Black Canary asks as she and Martian Manhunter enter the room.

M'gann's face lights up. "Uncle J'onn!"

She rushes forwards to hug him and he smiles down at her. Superboy watches them sourly from the far side of the training floor. After a few seconds, he tries to storm away but Canary stops him.

"Stick around. Class is in session."

Superboy rolls his eyes at her and I take a tiny step back. Canary is not gonna like that. Canary starts her lesson, giving us her version of a welcome speech. She's got a bandage on her arm, probably from one of the League's last missions.

"Would anyone like to be my sparring partner for the first demo?" She grins. I know that smile, and there's no way any of us are stupid enough to volunteer for—

"Right here!" Kid Flash's hand shoots up. I grin at Aqualad, who doesn't smile back, but he does shake his head at Kid Flash. It was nice knowing him.

"You know, after this little demo, I'd be happy to show you one of my moves."

Black Canary raises an eyebrow and in two moves, it's over. Wally's lying flat on his back, groaning. She gave him a punch to block and before he knew what was happening, she'd already swept his legs out from under him. I tilt my head to the side, grinning from ear to ear. Huh. From this angle, Wally looks just like a smashed bug.

"Good block. But did anyone see what he did wrong?" Canary asks as she helps Wally to his feet. I can't help myself.

"Ooh, ooh! He hit on teacher and got served?"

"Dude!" Wally protests.

Canary starts explaining about dictating the terms of battle, and it's basically the same as what Slade has been telling me. Know your limitations, learn from your opponent, use your surroundings, yadda yadda yadda. The only problem is that dictating the terms of battle isn't really practical when you're fighting someone forty years older, a hundred and fifty pounds heavier and with ten times more experience. I've never really gotten to spar with the other sidekicks—I mean, people my age. I'm sure it's going to be fun.

Superboy interrupts Canary mid-sentence.

"Oh please," he growls, "With my powers, the battle's always on my terms."

Is he crazy? Interrupting the instructor is the worst thing you can do. If I interrupted Batman during a mission briefing or even training in the Batcave, he'd make me wax the Batmobile or do another hundred sets. If I interrupted Slade… A shiver runs down my back. I think he's got some kind of super power that can drop the temperature of the room when he gets annoyed. And did I mention the no-holds-barred full-contact sparring yet?

Miss Martian flinches.

Aqualad is watching the argument with a controlled grimace, waiting for the other shoe to drop. The rest of the team looks equally alarmed by Superboy's outburst, but Black Canary just rolls with it.

"Prove it," she challenges.

Superboy narrows his eyes. Wally backs away from the center of the ring where Kaldur and I can protect him. He glares at me like he can hear my thoughts and I stick my tongue out at him. Our instructor drops into a fighting stance at the same time Superboy does. He throws the first punch and totally over-commits his weight. Canary steps back, putting her body in line with his, and while his center of gravity is off balance, she grabs his arms and throws him. He lands on his butt.

I burst out laughing, pointing at the fallen Kryptonian. Kaldur elbows me and I cover my mouth with my hands to mute my giggling. Told you. Bad mouthing the trainer always ends badly. Always. He's lucky Canary has a good sense of humor about it. Superboy gets up again, glaring at Canary with rage filled eyes.

"You're angry. Good, but don't react." She says.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. That's going to go over well. To the surprise of absolutely no one, he charges her again and she knocks him to the floor easily. Seriously, he telegraphs all his moves! Fighting a Superboy 101: Just move out of the way until he trips himself.

"That's it. I'm done," Superboy growls. Black Canary tries to talk to him, but a glaring match ensues. Before a real fight can break out, the video screen opens.

"Batman to the cave."

I let out a sigh of relief. Batman has the best timing.

* * *

Superboy and I follow the convoy, speeding down I-95. I've never seen this few cars on the road before. I like it. Trying to protect a convoy on a crowded road would be a complete disaster. Huh. Disaster.

"If like is the opposite of dislike, is disaster the opposite of aster?" I ask Superboy over the com link. "See, instead of things going wrong, they go right."

Superboy glares down at the road in angry silence.

"Uh, clearly you're not feeling the aster. What's wrong?"

"Canary." Superboy says, gripping his handlebars angrily. "And what business does she have teaching combat skills to a guy with super strength?"

Oh boy.

"Taking down stronger guys is part of the gig." I tell him, taking my eyes off the road to look at him. "Canary learned that the hard way. Same with Batman and well, me."

Superboy revs his motorcycle and speeds ahead, leaving me trailing behind. I roll my eyes. Does he really think that having super strength is the only thing you need to be the perfect hero? He probably thinks I'm just some kind of joke. That because I don't have super powers, I must be helpless. Well guess what? I have the most experience of anyone on this team. I've spent thousands of hours training, honing those combat skills Superboy thinks are useless. I've spent more time training with Slade than he's even been out of his pod. Size isn't everything and neither is strength. If that's all Superboy has, what's he going to do the first time he has to fight someone stronger than he is?

The corn around us starts rustling, and I sigh. So much for an easy mission.

"Hey Superboy?" I say over the commlink. "Quick heads up. We're about to have some company."

Superboy grunts in response. I rev my engine and catch up to him, and to be fair, he doesn't try to pull ahead again. A high-pitched cackling fills the air, coming from all directions. It's loud enough to drown out the roar of the motorcycle engines. Green robots shoot out of the corn and fly through the air, jetpacks built into their backs. Cackling like hyenas, they latch onto the truck with magnetic thuds. Their eyes and bodies glow with green light, faces stuck in huge, glowing grins.

"Robin, Superboy, our truck is under attack," Aqualad's voice warns over the commlink.

"Kind of figured," I answer, watching the robotic tails swing back and forth. Next to me, Superboy glowers.

"I hate monkeys," he growls. There's a thudding sound and the truck swerves into the wrong lane. I can't help but stare at the tiny green robot monkeys. Sure, they're attacking, but they're also super cool.

"Robot monkeys!" I grin, "Totally Ivo's tweaked style."

I activate the command on my motorcycle that reconfigures it, detaching the back end. The machine unfolds into a battle drone and begins shooting at the robots.

"Hey, switch your ride to battle mode," I tell Superboy, grinning as the drone knocks another three robots off the truck. Batman comes up with the coolest tech.

"No point," Superboy snaps, zooming forwards and launching himself onto the truck. Without him on it, his motorcycle loses control and goes careening right into mine.

"Or not!" I yelp, jumping onto the seat of my motorcycle and throwing myself into the air before I crash. I shoot my grappling gun at the truck and hear a crash and an explosion as the two cycles collide. My hands and feet hit the tuck and I kick a robot trying to laser its way through the metal. I look back to see a red and black cloud rising into the air. I gulp and my palms feel sweaty.

If I'd been a second slower, I would under that mess.

Broken robot parts fall through the air around me, and Superboy's grunts accompany the sound of smashing metal. More robot monkeys lunge at me and I kick them away. The grappling gun connected to my wrist is the only thing keeping me attached to the truck and my shoulder strains under the weight. My feet are just inches from the truck bed, but I can't risk releasing any of the line to lower myself down. If I fall, I'll hit the pavement at sixty miles an hour.

The battle drone is still shooting monkeys, which is definitely helpful but the small explosions are way too close to my head for comfort. The monkeys laugh even harder and two of them land on the drone, sending it barreling off to the side. I grab the base of the grappling gun and use it to pull my body around, kicking the robots that are still cutting through the truck over my head. Superboy lets out a scream, and suddenly he's being pulled into the air by five of the green monkeys. They drop him and he crashes to the ground.

"Superboy!" I shout. He doesn't answer. Oh, this is bad. So not feeling the aster.

I pull out a birdarang that doubles as a climbing hook and smash the robot on my left side. I jam the birdarang into the truck and detach the grappling gun from my wrist. I scramble up to the roof in time to see a monkey pull one of the guards out of the truck. He screams, hitting the robot with his free hand but it shoots off into the air, dragging him behind it. The robot drops the man into the corn and shoots back towards me. I don't have time to see if he's okay.

I pull out my eskrima sticks and twirl them to loosen my wrists. I charge forwards, smashing robots as they shoot towards me. I flip, crushing two of them in one motion when I land. I steady myself while the truck careens from side to side and ten more robots land on top of the truck. Before I can do anything, Superboy smashes down onto the top of the truck, and the shockwave knocks me off my feet. I stumble backwards and lose my balance. I flip a latch on my eskrima sticks, causing small spikes to protrude from the ends, and I slam them down into the truck as I fall. The metal punctures the roof of the truck, and I stop falling, my head hanging over the end of the truck.

Holy shit, that was close.

I jump up before the robots can attack, getting back into a defensive position. Suddenly, there's a bang that sounds like the tires exploding, and the truck shoots off to one side. I stumble. There's no time to waste. The driver is going to lose control any second. I lean over the edge and shout, "Get out!" at the driver. The door opens and the second it does, I grab the driver under the arms and jump off the truck.

Corn stalks whip against my body, cracking under our combined weight. We crash against the ground and the impact sends me skidding over rocks and through more corn. My helmet catches the brunt of the impact, but the rest of my body burns. In the background, I hear the truck crashing and rolling and skidding, and I hear Superboy yell in pain. There's another explosion and then the monkeys are laughing again, shooting into the sky with the box of Amazo parts between them.

I pull off my helmet and force myself to stand up.

The driver looks dazed, but he's still breathing and he's not bleeding. I reach down and help him up, supporting his weight on my shoulder. I curse myself for being short, and in the end, I have to practically drag him back to the road. I let the driver down slowly, and he faints the second he hits the ground. The truck is burning, flipped on its top. It rolls over as Superboy pushes it off him. He stumbles, but before I can say anything, he shoots into the sky, following the monkeys and leaving me alone.

"Superboy!" I shout. He doesn't listen, and I see his form moving farther and farther away. "Aagh!"

I kick at a stalk of corn. Is he trying to kill me?!

"Aqualad to Robin. We've lost our cargo. Did you—"

I sigh, anger fading into tiredness.

"It's gone. And so is my partner."

Aqualad sighs too.

"Aqualad to Superboy. Radio your position. We'll help you."

"I don't need any help. I don't want any!" He shouts and I almost rip out my comm link in frustration. What the hell does he think teammates are for?

"Superboy?!" Aqualad demands, but there's no answer.

"I think he ditched his comm," I tell him.

"Super. Now we can't even track him," Kid Flash says, voice thick with irritation.

"Are you alright?" Aqualad asks.

"A little banged up, but I'm fine. I'm going to need an ambulance for the guards."

"We'll send one your way."

"He's out of my telepathic range," Miss Martian says, "And this Professor Ivo, if he is alive, seems to be two steps ahead of us."

"No, he's not. He just has trackers in his robots and a busload of monkeys to throw at us," I snap irritably. Ivo was one of the first villains Slade covered. He likes to build messed up robots, test them by setting them loose, and then he collects whatever parts are left to build a new-and-improved version. Wait. If he has trackers in all his robots, maybe I can hack the signal.

"Maybe we should contact Red Tornado?" Miss Martian offers.

"Tornado always tells us to handle things ourselves. And the mission can still succeed if we recover the parts before they're reassembled," Aqualad says.

"Well, that's a great plan, except for the part about us not knowing where to look," Kid Flash yells. I look around at the smashed robots littering the ground for one that looks somewhat intact. There's one robot with its face smashed in, but the rest of it looks fine. Bingo!

"Maybe we do," I say, bending down and pulling an extension cable from my holocomputer. I plug it into the robot to decode the schematics and programming. "We'd have heard by now if the decoy trucks had been attacked. So how did these monkeys know exactly which trucks to target?"

My computer finishes decrypting the system and the holocomputer screen opens, displaying a map.

"Ha! I was right! The parts have GPS! The monkeys can track the signal, which means I can track them with the one I captured. It looks like both sets of parts are converging on…"

I watch as the moving dots pass through Litchfield and into Fairfield County and keep moving.

Yikes.

"Gotham city," I finish. Oh, Batman is not going to like this.

"That far south? M'gann and I won't get there anytime soon. I'm sending Kid on ahead to meet you. Aqualad out."

I sling the monkey over my shoulder and stand, looking out over the wreckage. I sigh, pressing buttons on my wrist computer, praying that there's something left of my motorcycle.

"Definitely a disaster, heavy on the dis."

My motorcycle zooms to a stop next to me, looking a little battered, but considering what it's been through, it could be so much worse. I pull my outer jacket off and raise the seat, revealing my costume in the hidden compartment. I change quickly, clipping my cape on and stowing the gear I managed to salvage under the seat. I climb on and throw my helmet over my head. I rev the engine and then I'm zooming towards Gotham city. It's twenty-five minutes away going sixty miles an hour. If I push ninety, I can get there in about fifteen minutes.

My cape is flying behind me, the wind buffeting it in every direction and I wonder if it would really be a terrible thing to detach it. I just can't get the whole "no capes!" speech from the Incredibles out of my head, but it's too short to have any risk of getting caught in the wheel and it's designed to protect me from explosions or blunt trauma. So, the cape stays and I push the cycle just past 95 miles per hour. 

The sign for Gotham City comes into view as a yellow blur pulls up beside me and instantly, I relax a little. Having Wally makes any situation easier.

"So, you changed too?"

"You kidding? Huh. I feel naked in civvies. You still tracking the parts?" Wally asks.

"They were heading through Gotham," I say, "But they veered."

The screen on my cycle changes and my eyes widen.

"Wait, dude! They're at my school!"

"Weird." I can hear Wally's grin over the comm link. "You know, we don't have to stop Amazo…"

"I wish." I take a hard right, zooming off the road and onto the grass. "This way! It's a shortcut."

Wally follows me through a short stretch of woods, and then we emerge on a main road. Luckily, it's empty at this time of night. We zoom down the road, turning past a short stretch of farmland that the school rents out as part of an extracurricular program, and turn left past the community center. Gotham Academy comes into view and I slow, letting my cycle come to a screeching halt. Wally stops with me, leaving skid marks in the fire lane. I can't resist leaving my motorcycle on top of the "no parking, buses only" area. Hey, I'm a hero. But nobody said heroes can't be petty.

"Let's go save Superboy," Wally says, and we charge into the school. I open my holocompter as we race down the hallways that look totally different at night. We round a corner and I can't stop myself from pouting.

"Well, they were definitely here," Wally says as we run past the wreckage.

"They busted the trophy case! I had a plaque!" I whine.

"For what? Chess club?" Wally teases.

"No! Mathletes!"

"Oh my god, Robin. You nerd."

My holocomputer beeps.

"Got them! They're in the gym."

"I got it!" Wally speeds off towards the gym, leaving me free to climb into a vent. I know the ventilation system better than I know the hallways. There's a direct path to the gym that's way faster than going through the cafeteria, past the wood-shop and down a flight of stairs. I crawl through as quickly as I can and kick the vent cover. I drop down the hole I made, pushing off the top bleachers and flipping down to the ground. I land just as Kid Flash pulls Superboy out of Amazo's way. They speed over to us and I throw a birdarang at the robot.

"Access Martian Manhunter," the robot says, turning incorporeal, and the projectile passes through him, exploding against the wall. "Access Red Tornado."

A red funnel starts swirling around the robot, picking us up and throwing us across the room. I hit the wall, but my suit absorbed most of the impact. I get up, but the robot is shooting at Kid Flash. He zooms around the gym, dodging Captain Atom's energy pulses as they destroy the gym around him. He speeds towards the robot, who says, "Access Black Canary."

The sonic wave knocks Kid Flash off his feet.

I look around, trying to find something we can use to our advantage as Superboy charges the robot again. I'll leave the heavy-hitting to Superboy and KF. I can't take Amazo head-on, and I'm not going to be able to get close enough to plant a bomb. Even if I could, he'll just go intangible if he realizes it's there. Amazo knocks Superboy back and I throw three more birdarangs, trying to catch him off guard. The robot's arm swings out and elongates, letting the projectiles explode against the metal harmlessly.

His other arm swings towards me and I dive to the side. Superboy doesn't move in time, and the arm slams into him, destroying a huge section of the bleachers with it. Kid Flash tries to get a punch in while he's distracted, but Amazo grabs him around the middle and says, "Access Superman."

It starts squeezing, and I can see the fear in Wally's face as the force presses in on him. Before I can do anything, there's a sound like an arrow being launched, but that can't be because Roy isn't here and the League is too far away, but then Amazo turns incorporeal and Wally falls, and the arrow embeds itself in the floor next to me. Wally scrambles out of range and Superboy charges again. Amazo throws him, using one of Black Canary's moves, and he crashes into the bleachers on the other side. I throw another birdarang, trying to distract the robot, and Amazo turns to me.

"Access Superman."

His eyes light up red and I don't have time to get out of the way and then Kid Flash crashes into me, pulling me out of the line of fire. We crash near the doors, dazed from the explosion. In the bleachers, Ivo starts monologuing, probably trying to enrage Superboy.

"You're all such poor copies of the original," Ivo finishes with a smirk in his voice.

"So everyone keeps saying," Superboy spits, "It makes me angry!"

He screams the last part and launches himself into the air, but there's something different about his attack. If I didn't know what it looks like when he loses control, I wouldn't see the way he positions himself to cause the most damage and angle himself so that Ivo's only escape is to the right.

"Want to see me channel that anger?" He shouts.

"Great, he's gone ballistic again," Kid Flash says, but I shake my head.

"Maybe not," I grin. Sure enough, Ivo panics.

"Amazo, protect your master, priority alpha."

And just like that, the rules change. Superboy smashes the bleachers behind him, sending Ivo running straight towards me and Kid Flash. Amazo attacks Superboy, leaving the monkey robots to pick up Ivo.

"Anyone up for a game of keep away?" I shout, kicking a dazed Ivo in the back. He flies across the room, skidding on his face. Ouch.

"Ooh, me! Me!" Kid Flash shouts, running towards Ivo.

"Access Superman," Amazo says and stomps on the ground, sending a shockwave across the floor that sends Kid Flash flying into the air. It sends Ivo into the air too. I see Superboy moving in and throw a birdarang to give him his opening. Sure enough, Amazo lets it phase through him and Superboy punches through his incorporeal head. When he reforms, Supeboy's arm is going through his head and the robot fizzles with electricity, every circuit frying. The robot's head explodes and its headless body falls backwards.

"Help me disassemble him! Now!" I shout, charging towards him to start pulling the parts off. Kid Flash just stares at me.

"Dude. The guy has no head."

"Don't take any chances," Aqualad orders as he and Miss Martian charge through the doors. I grab Amazo's left arm and start pulling. Kid Flash moves forwards to help me.

Miss Martian flies to Superboy's side worriedly.

"Superboy! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Feeling the aster," he responds and my jaw drops open. I stare at him and he smiles back at me.

"Hey? Where's Ivo?" Kid Flash asks. We all stare around the smoking hull the used to be the gym, but there's nothing but us and the partly disassembled killer robot. Okay, so maybe this is a little bit of a disaster, but on the bright side… gym class will probably be cancelled for a few weeks.

* * *

"Hey, uh, Robin? Can I talk to you for a second?" Superboy asks, standing in the doorway to the Team's gym uncomfortably. I'm doing a handstand on the parallel bars, and I bend my arms, lowering my head towards the ground while my body points straight in the air. I push up and let my body swing forwards, using the momentum to swing all the way through and fly into the air. I do a full flip and land softly on the ground between the bars. Then I turn towards Superboy, ducking under the bars so I can grab my towel and water bottle.

"Canary finished whooping your butt?" I tease, moving towards my teammate.

Superboy smiles. Superboy smiles?! What?!

"Yeah. She's actually… she knows what she's doing."

I put my hand over my heart in shock.

"What happened to 'I don't need combat skills'?"

Superboy smiles uncomfortably.

"Look, I just wanted to say," he pauses, taking a deep breath and exhaling sharply. "I'm sorry."

My brain freezes. Superboy. Anger issues. Trust issues. Minor superiority complex. No social skills. Not a team player. Stubborn. Very stubborn.

"What?"

"I'm sorry. I was a pretty awful teammate today. You could have gotten hurt because I wasn't thinking. I shouldn't have left you behind to go after Ivo myself, and I should have waited for backup." He pauses, face torn between pride and guilt. "And… I'm sorry about what I said. I don't think that you're weak and I'm sorry that I said you were. You deserve to be on this team more than anyone. Except… except maybe Aqualad, but he's—"

"It's okay." I interrupt him, "It means a lot to me that you're apologizing."

Superboy looks up, his eyes clear and relieved.

"I know this is probably a lot harder than you thought it would be. I mean, if I had super strength, it would be a lot easier, but it's taken me a long time to get where I am now. I mean, even when I'm not being Robin, I still spend most of my time training. This hero stuff is really hard and it takes time to get better at it."

"I didn't think," he pauses, "I didn't think I would be so bad at it."

"You're not bad at it. Yeah, okay, maybe there's places to improve, but you're not bad at it. You're just new. Even Superman was new once."

"Really?"

"Yeah." I grin. Payback time, Uncle Clark. "You should hear some of the stories about when he was growing up. Every time a new power came in, he had to start from scratch. You know, if you ever need some 'blackmail,' I'll tell you all about the rabid fox and the barn roof."

"The what?"

"Rabid fox and the barn roof. It's hilarious. Or, if you want, I can yell at him for being a jerk to you."

"You'd do that for me?"

"Duh! What are teammates for?"

Superboy actually smiles. "Maybe this team thing really isn't so bad."

"If we can ever get the hang of this 'covert' thing." I grin.

"Someone once told me that difficult things take time to learn," Superboy says seriously.

"You mean, I told you that three seconds ago,"

Superboy nods, smiling even bigger, "Hey, it was good advice."

I think I misjudged him. Maybe Superboy is better adjusted than I thought.

"Hey, do you think you could show me how to do some of that stuff?" Superboy asks, pointing at the parallel bars.

"You're not too sore from Black Canary's super-fun beat down?"

"I think I'll manage."

"You sure? Because Robin boot camp is nothing like you've ever done before."

"Because… I've never done it before?"

"Exactly." I snap my fingers, "Now you're getting it!"

* * *

_LexSecure eRecords Password Accepted._

_Waiting for Verification..._

**Password verified.**

* * *

**From:** DT3b59N8v3st@LexSecure.org

Heard a rumor you're interested in recovering AMAZO. How badly do you want to find it?

* * *

**From:** LL94483@LexSecure.org

10K if your intel is correct. Paid on confirmation.

* * *

**From:** DT3b59N8v3st@LexSecure.org

JL stashed it in upstate New York. Storage facility on the Howard Stark Land Trust.

* * *

**From:** LL94483@LexSecure.org

-Transfer Record-

**Item #: **778945983

**Amount: **$10,000.00

**To: **DT3b59N8v3st@LexSecure.org

**Service: **International

* * *

**From:** DT3b59N8v3st@LexSecure.org

Blueprints and security system plans are yours for another 30. Payment up front.

* * *

**From:** LL94483@LexSecure.org

You expect me to believe you've obtained secure League schematics? You make a pathetic con man, Wilson.

* * *

**From:** DT3b59N8v3st@LexSecure.org

You're a businessman, Lex. Aren't the plans worth the risk that I'm lying to you?

* * *

**From:** LL94483@LexSecure.org

-Transfer Record-

**Item #:** 778945997

**Amount:** $30,000.00

**To:** DT3b59N8v3st@LexSecure.org

**Service:** International

* * *

**From:** LL94483@LexSecure.org

If you're lying to me, you'll regret it.

* * *

**From:** DT3b59N8v3st@LexSecure.org

**Attached:**

**ext464593(pdf)**

**int464593(pdf)**

**scsys464593(pdf)**

* * *

**From:** LL94483@LexSecure.org

How did you get these?

* * *

**From:** DT3b59N8v3st@LexSecure.org

Now you're getting to the expensive questions, Lex. Contact me as needed. It'll be much more affordable.


	9. Chapter 9

Wednesday, August 4th, 2012

Wayne Manor

Dick Grayson

* * *

"Dad's home!" Tim calls, peeling his face away from my bedroom window. He races out the door with a cheer and the sound of his feet pounding against the carpet. Cassie latches onto Jason's shoulders, pulling herself into a piggyback. I crouch so Stephanie can climb onto my back and we run after Tim. In the foyer, the door opens and closes and Bruce's voice fills the air. As we charge down the main staircase, Bruce tells Alfred that the flight was good and the meeting was productive.

"Daddy!" Cassie shrieks happily. Bruce drops his briefcase with a slight thud, holding out his arms as Tim slams into him and envelops him in a bear hug. Jason and I are right behind him. Stephanie wriggles off my back so that she can tackle Bruce too. His arms wrap around all of us and I lean into the group hug. He smells like a limousine and the expensive cologne he wears for business trips. I'm surrounded by my family on all sides and it's a tangle of arms and bodies and Tim keeps stepping on my foot and Stephanie keeps kicking my knees while she tries to jump high enough to wrap her arms around Bruce's shoulders.

"Welcome home, sir," Alfred grins in his most butler-y voice.

"How was Metropolis?" I say when we break apart.

"Did you see Uncle Clark?" Stephanie asks.

"What'd you bring me?" Jason demands.

"Daddy!" Cassie pulls at his arms, "I maked dis!"

Bruce picks the five-year-old up in his arms while she pulls a messily folded piece of paper from her sweater pocket with concentrated effort and holds it out to him proudly.

"You made this? It's beautiful!" Bruce gushes. "We'll have to get you enrolled in art school soon!"

"What took you so long?" I ask after he finished praising Cassie's art, "You were in Litchfield with us yesterday. Why are you just getting home now?"

"I had another business meeting in Metropolis. LexCorp is still trying to push a co-op development that somehow slipped through about fifty layers of red tape, but we have it handled now." He responds, "And I had to talk to Clark."

"About Superboy." It's not a question. Bruce nods.

"Who's Superboy?" Tim asks. I start to answer, but it's probably better to let Bruce explain. I don't want to confuse Tim too much.

"Superboy is Superman's clone."

"Like in Star Wars?"

"No, those are clone troopers," I correct him.

"Not to mention the fact that Star Wars is fictional." Bruce adds smugly.

"Is it really?" I say, raising my eyebrow pointedly, "Uncle Hal said that the Jedi have been having turf disputes with the Lantern Corps lately."

"You shouldn't believe everything Hal says. He's just messing with you."

"But I asked Guy Gardener and he said that-"

"When were you talking to Guy Gardener?" Bruce asks, bemused.

"He came by the cave accidentally. M'gann gave him some cookies for the road. Wally freaked out a little because he still owes Guy twenty bucks from that poker night on top of Star Labs last year. So he told me to distract him and so I remembered what Uncle Hal said and I wanted to know and Guy said that there really are Jedi, but they're in a totally different quadrant of space and that George Lucas' dad had been a Green Lantern and that's how he knew about them. By the way, don't tell Barry about the poker night because he promised Wally's mom that he wouldn't let him gamble."

"Huh." His voice makes it clear that he will be following up with an investigation of his own about the Jedi thing. Nerd.

"Guys! Who's Superboy?!" Tim whines, upset at being ignored. "Why haven't I met him before?"

"We just rescued him from Cadmus a few months ago," I tell him. "He's on my team, but not a lot of people know he exists."

"Why did he have to be rescued?"

"Cadmus is a laboratory that does a lot of bad experiments. The Justice League didn't find out about it until Robin, Kid Flash and Aqualad investigated a fire there."

"You rescued him?"

I nod.

"Well, he kind of rescued us too."

"Where does he live? Does he live with Uncle Clark?"

"No. He lives at Mount Justice with Miss Martian. She's another one of my teammates."

"Why not?"

"Uncle Clark is having a hard time accepting his new responsibilities." Bruce answers.

"Why? Jango Fett loved Boba, and he was his clone. Why doesn't Uncle Clark love Superboy?"

"It's complicated. He didn't know about him before. It's hard for him to deal with."

"Oh." Tim is quiet for a second. "Can Superboy come visit?"

"We'll see."

Tim follows Bruce as he goes to his study, peppering him with questions as they go. Cassie runs back to the living room and plops herself down on the carpet where she's assembled a mountain of crayons and markers for her art. Jason pulls his DS out of his jacket pocket and sits against the wall. My stomach rumbles so I head to the kitchen. I pour a bowl of cereal, sit at the table and turn on the news. Wally's aunt Iris is on channel seven and it's kind of fun seeing people I know on tv. But it can be weird too, like when the Wayne Foundation makes a huge donation and Bruce is all over the news that cycle or one of my teachers shows an interview with the Justice League.

Last year, my history teacher showed us a documentary about Wonder Woman that made her look like a super-serious goddess of war and diplomacy and all of the confessionals and expert interviews talked about the ancient Greeks and Wonder Woman as a figure straight out of legends. I mean, it's kind of true, but I've also seen Aunt Diana frantically trying to calm Cassie down after my little sister ate one of her homemade brownies and started crying at how bad they were. It's hard to see someone in the same light after that.

But it was a cool documentary and Robin was in one of the clips they had of the Justice League defending the Capitol building from Gorilla Grodd's army three years ago. That was pretty awesome. I'll never get tired of seeing myself on tv.

"I don't wanna go back to school," Stephanie whines, pulling me out of remembering my glory days. "Why can't it just be summer foreverrrrr?"

"As much I sympathize with your plight, young Mistress, an education is a necessity."

"But Alfredddddd…"

"Non-negotiable, I'm afraid. However, I'm sure I could be persuaded to prepare a batch of raspberry-chocolate chip cookies if you were able to produce your completed report on the Series' of Unfortunate Events you were to have read."

Stephanie pouts. "But Jason hasn't finished his summer work either."

"Leave me out of this, Steph!" Jason's shout echoes from the living room. Alfred always gets like this right before school starts, because he knows Bruce will assume that we've been keeping to a responsible schedule with summer homework and by the time it occurs to Bruce to make sure that we've started it, it's the day before. I finished most of my stuff over the last couple weeks, and now I just have five more pages out of my math packet which I saved for last because calculus is super easy. Jason always manages to get his stuff done, so Alfred knows he's not the one to watch out for. Stephanie and Tim have about two book reports and a math packet between them. You'd think that wouldn't be too bad.

You'd be wrong.

It takes every bit of persuasion and influence and putting-his-foot-down-ness that Alfred has, and even that isn't enough to get the two of them to get started on their work. Stephanie and Alfred have been playing this game for the whole week, where the conversation starts off subtle and the pressure builds until Alfred makes a bribe and Stephanie holds up her end of the bargain… until he turns around. Then they start up all over again.

Stephanie is finally out of time, and she's been moping around all day. Watching her, you'd think her pet leopard gecko died. I'm halfway through my math packet by the time she manages to open her computer and start typing. But if Alfred thinks Stephanie is bad… she's got nothing on Tim. His strategy is a little different. While Stephanie goes with the obvious whining and stalling, Tim pretends to be working. He's been on line three of his book report for the last two months.

It's an amazing act. He's got the routine down perfectly… better than any Shakespearean actor could ever hope to match. I don't know how he did it, but he figured out exactly what it looks like when he's actually trying to do homework or focusing on something. He sits down in front of the computer and fakes it. I don't know how he does it. Even when I know for a fact he's just pressing random keys and occasionally deleting everything, if I can't see his screen I'd never know. He's got his usual look of concentration on his face, and he breaks up the slow typing by reading a page or two of "Holes." The whole thing is impressive and hilarious, mainly because he's wasted so much time pretending to work on it when he could have just written the one-page summary and been done.

As much as I kind of want to see Alfred's face when he realizes Tim's hoax, I really don't want to leave the opening for the "You knew what he was up to and didn't say anything so no cookies for a week" lecture. Jason can fill me in later. For now, I carry my dishes to the sink and kick up into a handstand. Upside down, I walk on my hands down the hall and into Bruce's study, where the door is propped open. He's working on a letter for the Wayne Tech shareholders while he scans through piles of reports and updates.

"How's your homework coming?" He asks without looking up.

"Almost done. I just have a few pages of my calc packet left, but it's really easy."

There's a pause, where the only sound in the study is from Bruce's keyboard. The portrait of Thomas and Martha hanging over the fireplace looks weird from upside down, but I don't think anyone will find it funny if I point out how weird her nose looks flipped 180 degrees.

"Dick, are you sure you want to take AB calculus? I really think BC would be a better fit for your ability."

"No, I'm good. I don't really want to mess up my schedule trying to switch it."

Not after the amount of effort it took to convince Slade to butt out of it. If I hadn't agreed to take the lower level math and bio classes, he was going to make my schedule for me. So, the math class stays.

"Are you doing science club again this year?" Bruce asks.

What? I never did a science club.

OH.

I almost drop myself onto my head. I did the Gotham Primary science club for two weeks last year, and after that it was my cover for training with Slade. I'd do homework after school with Babs and then walk to the community center where Slade would have a car waiting. After training, he'd drive me back to school with plenty of time for Alfred to pick me up.

"I don't think so. It wasn't that much fun," I say. Slade hasn't said anything about it anyways.

"How's your paperwork coming?" I change the subject.

"Not almost done." Bruce answers. "Has Alfred managed to bribe Stephanie yet?"

I shift back my weight, picking one hand off the ground so all my weight is on my left hand. The carpet feels prickly on my palm so I switch hands.

"Maybe? She's got her computer open."

"Doesn't mean anything. Just look at Tim."

I squeeze my abs and let my legs fall forwards. My heels land on the floor and the momentum carries me to my feet.

"You knew?!"

"Of course." Bruce almost looks offended that I'd doubted him. Almost. He more looks amused. "He always fidgets when he's thinking. He's too focused on his act to move around."

"Wait, but… you always gave me such a hard time about finishing my homework and you haven't said anything to him?!"

Bruce raises an eyebrow.

"How's that math packet coming, again?"

"Bruce! You made me finish all my homework in July! And then you gave me that binder of geography worksheets! I still know more about the topology of Finland than everyone in my entire school!"

"You're welcome," Bruce answers seriously. The corner of his mouth ticks up. "I admit that was a bit… unnecessary given that you were ten."

"I told you that when you gave it to me!"

"Okay, yes, Dick I'm sorry about that. But I have had some time to realize that schoolwork is not necessarily the most important part of summer break and frankly, Tim is learning more with his scheme than through a single book report."

"What do you mean?"

"The effort involved in a long-term act of subterfuge? He's mapped out times and patterns for each of his habits according to who's in the room with him. He made a spreadsheet to figure out how long Alfred would stay and watch him work and at what intervals he comes back in to check. He's even been researching behaviors of productive people and child psychology of different age groups."

"Wait. That parenting magazine that Alfred found last week…"

"Tim ordered it off my card. He asked me if he could get it for a friend's mom who's a psychiatrist. I think he even went as far as to ask her if she'd like a subscription. It's impossible not to see that he's been thorough."

Oh man, Timmy.

"So, you're telling me you really don't care?"

"Of course, I'm not mad." The smile drops off his face and it's replaced by the sternest Batglare I've ever seen. "I'm disappointed."

"You are an evil man." I shake my head. "Do we still have time for a few sparring rounds before dinner?"

"As tempting as bi-weekly reports are, I think we can fit that in."

* * *

Monday, August 23rd, 2012

Gotham Academy

* * *

"We'll laugh about this someday."

The camera flashes before Artemis has a chance to process anything, and then I'm gone.

"Dick? What was that?"

I whirl around, my smile splitting across my face.

"Babs!"

There's a blur of red hair and a beaming smile, and then we're tackling each other.

"How was Europe?!" I ask when we separate from the hug.

She's bouncing on her feet as she says, "It was great! The exhibitions were amazing and we got to train at the gym Béla Károlyi worked at! It was so awesome! You would have loved it!"

"That sounds amazing!"

"And, while I was there I got my Silivas!"

"That's the double front twisting double back twist thing, right?"

"Yeah!"

"That's incredible! You're going to qualify for sure!"

Barbara is an elite gymnast. Last season she was number nine in the country and qualified for a full-summer training program abroad. Olympic trials are in two years and there's no one who deserves it more.

"It's still a long time away." She blushes.

"Just think about how exciting it is for me! I'm best friends with a future Olympian!"

"Dick!" She tries to hit me on the arm, but I move in and put my arm around her shoulder instead. Together, we walk into a new school year at Gotham Academy. We're both ninth graders, although Babs is a year older than me since I skipped a grade.

"I can't believe we got so lucky with our classes!" She unfolds her schedule from her jacket pocket.

"Crazy, right? Almost like this system got hacked…"

"You didn't!" Babs hisses, looking delighted at the thought.

"Once you got your schedule, I just flagged myself as priority for your sections. It wasn't even hacking, really. But not for bio."

"You're not in AP?"

I shake my head.

"Nah. Just honors. But all the other classes are the same."

Babs leans in to hug me again. "You're the best! This year is going to be great!"

The bell rings, signaling five minutes to class.

"Do you know where English is?" I ask her.

"Second floor, first room after the staircase. I hear Mrs. McKendrick is really nice," she answers.

"As long as we don't have to read too much Shakespeare."

"Oh please. You love anyone who invents that many words. How's B?"

I smirk. We thought we were so clever with that codename, but Babs can't exactly ask me how Batman is doing. "He's good. Still a little psycho around the edges, but I think he's getting better. Speaking of which, Robin was inducted into the Justice League."

Babs stops walking. A group of juniors almost bumps into her, but they weave around quickly. "Seriously? When?! Why didn't I know about this?"

"In July. It's… not as cool as it sounds." I take a breath and look around, trying to see if anyone is listening in. "We weren't really accepted into the League, and it might have gotten a little messy, but we got our own team. It's covert, so B tried to keep it quiet. We're not good at the covert part though."

"Still cool." Babs says brightly. "Wait, we?"

"Yeah. Kid Flash, Aqualad, Superboy, Miss Martian, and Artemis."

"Whoa! Totally don't know who the last three are. What about Speedy?"

I frown.

"He quit."

"What?!"

"Shh!"

"Sorry! What?" Babs whispers.

"He got angry that the League lied to us, and he doesn't want to come back."

"Are… are you okay with that?"

"No." I huff. "I mean, I get that it's his life, but this is bigger than him. At least, it's supposed to be. And he just left like none of the stuff he's done mattered."

"I'm sorry, Dick."

"It's okay, I'm just still trying to wrap my head around it."

"Yeah… hey have you seen the gym yet?" Babs asks suddenly.

"No… why?"

"It's totally trashed! During the summer, there was some kind of attack and the gym and some of the lockers and classes got smashed up. They're working on renovations but it's still a mess." 

I grin.

"You want the play by play?" I ask her.

"You didn't!" Babs grins, "That was you?"

"Junior Justice League, at your service," I bow dramatically.

"Who was it?"

"Ivo. He built this AMAZO robot that could learn and copy its opponents. It took the League four hours to beat it!" My smile widens, "It took us like fifteen minutes."

"It was probably reset to factory settings." Babs teases.

"Nope. Full powers of the Justice League."

"So, what happened?"

"We were escorting the trucks carrying the disassembled robot to STAR labs. Miss Martian, KF and Aqualad took one and Superboy and Robin had the other. Ivo sent his MONQIs to hijack the trucks and reassemble AMAZO. Superboy went berserk, tracked the train, and everyone regrouped at Gotham Academy to fight him. Long story short, we played keep away with Ivo and Artemis saved our butts."

"Artemis… Artemis…. Uh… wait, Artemis 'we'll laugh about me coming up behind you and randomly taking a picture someday' Artemis?"

"Yeah! We were a little iffy at first, but she's cool and it's nice to have an archer on the team."

"Ohhhh." Babs says, eyes wide as she connects the dots. "Dick, you shouldn't scare people on their first day at school. Even if they're your teammate. Especially if they're… trained assassins?"

"You're no fun."

"You wound me! Anyways, the gym is trashed so we'll be having it outside for a while."

"They didn't cancel it? Damn. Maybe I should ask Superboy to smash the rest of it."

"Do it!" Babs laughs. She holds the door to the stairwell open and gestures me through.

"What did they tell the rest of the school?" I ask as we start climbing stairs. Babs grins from ear to ear.

"Malfunctioning construction equipment."

"Seriously?"

"Right?!" Babs agrees gleefully. "Everyone knows it's a big fat lie, but Dad says the real reason is for the insurance company… construction damage looks way better for insurance premiums than superhero battles."

I shake my head in disbelief.

"La verità è anzi più strana della finzione," I mutter.

"What does that mean?"

"The truth is stranger than fiction."

"Says the guy who hangs out with aliens and magicians." Babs laughs. "I always forget how many languages you speak."

"No sé a qué te refieres," I shake my head sadly. "Tu oublies mon génie."

"I don't know what you said but, unde este toaleta?"

"They didn't teach you many phrases in Romania, did they?" I tease.

"Nope! But if someone needs to find the bathroom, I'm their girl."

The door to our classroom is open and Babs and I file in. About half the class is already sitting, looking at their phones or talking to each other.

"Hey, it's Josh!" Babs points, and sure enough Josh Pines is pointing at the two empty desks in the room in front of him. We walk over and Babs claims the desk on the left, leaving me right in front of Josh.

"Hey Dick! How was your summer?" Josh asks.

"It was great! How was yours?"

"Eh…" Josh starts, looking around awkwardly. "I mean I went to camp the whole summer, but my step-mom is on this whole health-food-vegan-organic warpath, so I haven't eaten anything that isn't leafy and green since I've been back."

Babs and I stare in horror.

"I'm so sorry," Babs says.

"Nah, don't be. Because you know what I've got?"

"A lower risk of heart disease from high cholesterol?" I grin, raising an eyebrow.

"Lunch money, and you better believe I'm going for the mozz sticks."

"Nice," Babs fist bumps him. Josh and Babs have been friends since third grade, when he got called a faggot at recess and Babs punched the bully so hard he blacked out. Josh and I have been friends since we got partnered on a Health class project last year. He's a great partner because he's smart, does his fair share of the work on time, and will provide a scathing commentary on the idiocies occurring in the surrounding room. Exactly what you want in a gym class group project partner.

"Oh, before I forget, you both should come to the information meeting after school."

"For your sister's community service thing?" Babs asks.

"She graduated last year, so I'm taking it over. You should both come. I've got… dun dun da da… pamphlets!"

"He's got pamphlets," I tell Babs.

"What choice do we have?" She nods seriously just as the bell rings and a tall woman wearing bright blue heels walks into the room.

"Good morning, everyone! It looks like everyone is here, so let's get started. I'm Mrs. McKendrick and we're going to have a lot of fun this semester."

"Golly gee, I can't wait!" Josh whispers to me at the same time Babs mutters, "She hit six squares on buzzword bingo."

This is going to be a good class.

* * *

Wayne Manor

* * *

"Josh wants me to join his community service group. It's designed to try to connect Gotham Academy students to families who live in the slums. It meets three times a week and they do a bunch of different projects around the city, like doing food and toy drives, and I think they even collaborate with some food banks. The next meeting is on Wednesday. Can I go?"

Bruce looks at Alfred, who nods.

"I don't see why not. But Dick, you're already so busy. Are you sure you want to do more stuff?"

I nod enthusiastically.

"Yeah! Josh says it's really fun and you get a bunch of community service hours for doing it."

And I really am excited for it. Josh's charity group is exactly what I want to be doing. Bruce has given me so much, and I want to use what I have to help other people who haven't been adopted by a billionaire. Too bad Slade wants me to use it as a cover, so I'll barely be able to actually go.

"If you're sure, then I'm all for it."

"Thanks Bruce! Thanks Alf!"

Once I'm out of the kitchen, I make a beeline to my room. I hate lying to Bruce! Aside from the fact that I feel horrible about it, they don't call him the world's greatest detective for nothing. I'm not a great liar. What am I going to do if he gets suspicious? Does he already suspect something? I rub my eyes and lie down on the bed. I have to relax. All this stuff with Slade, it's really not a big deal. It's just training. 

My phone buzzes. I type in my passcode to check the text message.

_"Can you do the community service group?"_

I type, _"He says okay but he's worried I'll be too busy."_

"_Will you be able to handle it?"_

I scowl. _"Yes."_

"_If you can't, I'll arrange something else."_

"_It's fine."_

Slade doesn't answer after that, so I take a breath and delete all the messages. It's not the most secure way of getting rid of them, but it's just in case someone tries looking through my phone. It's not going to stand up to any real scrutiny, but Bruce doesn't go through my messages. He respects my privacy. 

My stomach hurts.

I don't want Slade making my schedule. I get why he's worried about Bruce getting suspicious, but even if he's right, it's my life! I don't want him picking what classes I can take or what clubs I can do or what days I can train with my team! But if I tell him to butt out of it, I'm worried he'll think I'm not taking the training seriously. It's helping me so much and it's not that I don't want to do it, I just wish Slade would back off a little. I just wish there was some way to tell him that without freaking him out. I'm not going to tell Batman about him! I thought he knew that by now!

But whenever I try to ask if we can slow down or go back to the old training schedule, he thinks I'm threatening to rat him out! When we started, it was every three weeks and it made a lot of sense when he suggested switching to every other week. Once I could move past the basics, I needed to put more time in to keep improving. And once we started weapons training on top of hand-to-hand combat, there was a lot more stuff to work on, so I was okay to meet every week. But twice a week? That's so much!

Okay, sure, between the time I spend coding with Hardison and Slade teaching me about villains, we're losing combat practice. He doesn't get anything out of telling me about them; he's only doing it to help me. Maybe if we stop doing that, he'll be okay to keep it at one session a week? But I don't want to stop. It's already paid off and we've only been on two missions since then. I only thought to check the MONQIs for GPS because Slade taught me about Ivo. What if the next time the team is on a mission, I miss something huge because I wasn't prepared for the villain's tricks? I can't risk that.

I guess twice a week isn't that bad.

The community service group is a really good excuse. Besides, once a week I'll still get to hang out with Josh and work in the soup kitchen.

It'll be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This chapter is mostly cute and fun, but the groundwork is being laid for some things that might not be very good at all. Let me know if you're enjoying the story!
> 
> Italian: La verità è anzi più strana della finzione—The truth is indeed stranger than fiction.
> 
> Spanish: No sé a qué te refieres—I don't know what you're talking about.
> 
> French: Tu oublies mon génie —You forget my genius.
> 
> Romanian: Unde este toaleta—Where is the bathroom?


	10. Chapter 10

Friday, August 27th, 2012

Mount Justice

Dick Grayson

* * *

"I need to talk to Aqualad," Batman says and the rest of the team starts to disband. I wait.

"Just Aqualad."

Oh.

Without looking at Batman's face, I turn and follow Wally out the door. The team heads for the showers. Wally tries lightening the mood but everything he says just makes the silence worse.

"I guess it just got a little... muddied up? Right?" Wally grins. I scowl and he shakes his head. "Hey, relax Rob. It was one bad mission, that's not the end of the world."

"I'm fine, Wally."

"Come on, man. I know you better than that. This isn't a big deal. So Clayface kicked our assess, but we'll get him next time, you know?"

"I said I'm fine!"

Conner turns to look at me from the door to the guys' locker room but he doesn't say anything. I storm off to my room to change, abandoning the showers completely. Wally doesn't follow me.

Just Aqualad.

I slam the door to my room shut so hard the room vibrates.

Just.

Aqualad.

I start ripping off my uniform, starting with the mud-covered mask sticking to my face. The cape comes free with a sharp tug at the release panel and I throw it on the floor with a loud gust of air. 

I thought we were partners. I thought he trusted me, counted on me, appreciated me but no! I should know better by now! I should've known when Batman never told me about the Watchtower! I should've known when he lied to me about joining the League! Just the fact that they formed this team instead of letting us onto the real League proves that they don't trust us! How am I still surprised that Batman doesn't trust me? How does it still hurt so badly every single time something happens to bring it up again? I know I'm not good enough to lead this team. I get it! And Aqualad is a good leader. He deserves to be our leader. I just…

Instead of trying to figure out what I'm trying to say, I slam my closet door shut and pull my green hoodie over my head. My sunglasses are the only thing on the desk. The rest of the room is just as empty. I throw myself on the bed, hot tears pricking at my eyes.

Everybody else has decorated their rooms. Wally stuffed boxes of his favorite protein bars and about two hundred packages of fruit roll-ups in his room. He also replaced the sheets with a Superman duvet. Uncle Barry switched that with a Flash-themed one. Wally changed it back, but the next time Uncle Barry stopped by the mountain, the Flash theme was back. Plus matching pillow cases. At this point Wally has the biggest collection of Flash merchandise in existence.

Artemis was super excited to decorate her room, since her parents weren't big on personal expression or something. She and M'gann painted the walls dark green and they roped Superboy into helping them paint constellations on the ceiling, since he's got an encyclopedic knowledge. Black Canary was less than thrilled about the amount of paint they tracked onto the training floor, but I know Aunt Dinah was happy they were bonding. Artemis spends a ton of time in her room now. She and M'gann went on a shopping spree and bought matching stuff for their rooms, including green and blue beanbag chairs and lava lamps because they got carried away.

M'gann's room is filled with landscape paintings and posters of Earth as seen from space. She also loves old-timey furniture so her whole room feels really vintage. She also started filling a wall of pictures of the Team, which was annoying at first because she wouldn't stop taking pictures with the digital camera I got her, but once she started putting them on the wall it was… nice. Seeing pictures of the whole team together, not even doing heroic things, just chilling or watching a movie, it's really nice. She also has beanbag chairs and a lava lamp to match Artemis.

Kaldur's is…

_Just Aqualad._

…

Superboy's room is the only one as boring than mine. But he does have this poster of a turtle that one of the Terror Twins hit Kid Flash with during their epic mall showdown. And honestly, I think that expresses his personality better than anything else. My room is the only one that hasn't been decorated. I just don't spend any time in here. I already have a huge bedroom at home. I don't need two_... or three._

My stomach twists and I sit on the end of the bed. It's a full mattress, smaller than the one I have at home, but bigger than the one in Slade's hideout. Thinking of Slade is a mistake; once the thought hits, the wave of anger doesn't stop.

I'm supposed to be getting better! That's the whole point of this stupid training! But I'm not getting better! I can't do anything right! I'm not a leader, I can't follow orders right, and I was useless against Clayface! I knew what he was doing! I knew it was a trap, and I knew that whatever I saw wasn't real. But when it came down to it, it didn't matter. I was scared to hurt Wally and left myself wide open. What's the point of this?!

I let my head drop into my hands.

How is it that I know so many breathing exercises and the idea of trying one of them right now just makes me even angrier?

There's a soft knock at the door.

"What?!" I snap, shoving my sunglasses onto my face because I can't trust anyone, not even my friends. Batman doesn't trust them and he doesn't trust me and I'm not good enough at anything to prove him otherwise.

"Can I come in, Robin?" M'gann asks quietly. Her voice drops the way it always does when she knows that she messed up but doesn't understand Earth well enough to know what she did wrong. My stomach curls again. Why is she coming to me? I can't help her figure out what she did wrong against Clayface. Black Canary won't yell at her for asking and Canary's a hell of a lot better at giving advice than I am.

But despite the urge to yell, _"Leave me alone,_" the words stick in my throat.

"Yeah, M'gann. The door's open."

She eases the door open slowly. M'gann hesitates in the doorway, dressed in her civvies with damp hair soaking into her sweater.

"What do you want?"

She flinches and I refuse to feel guilty. My stomach twists anyway.

"I wanted to make sure you're okay. You seemed really upset." M'gann says with a strained smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

"I'm fine."

M'gann frowns and shuts the door behind her. I sit up instead of staying sprawled out across the bed. It's not the comfortable anyway.

"Robin, you don't have to pretend to be okay. I'm your friend. If you need to talk, I'm here for you. Just like you're always here for us."

I shake my head, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

"M'gann, I know you want to help but I can't… there's nothing you can do."

"Why not?"

"Why not? Because I'm not allowed to tell you anything! Batman won't even let me tell you my name! I can't tell you why I'm upset right now because you don't know anything about me or about him. Yeah, I'm upset right now, but I get why he said what he said. It doesn't make me feel any better and I can't explain any of it to you or anyone else."

"I'm sorry. I never thought about how hard it would be for you not to tell us."

"It's not your fault."

"So… you're just upset because Batman only wanted to talk to Kaldur?" M'gann asks quietly. I huff.

"No, I'm not 'just upset' because of that. M'gann, when we were fighting Clayface, I knew it was a trap and I fell for it anyways. I'm upset because I'm supposed to be better than that! I know it and Batman sure as hell knows it."

"Clayface tricked all of us," M'gann reminds me. Her forehead creases and her lips tighten like there's something she really wants to say but doesn't know how to. "Nobody expects you to perfect. None of us are, and that's why we're a team. We're supposed to have each other's backs instead of trying to handle everything by ourselves."

She doesn't get it. How could she know? It's not about being perfect. It's about not making the same mistakes again. The training with Slade, it has to pay off. All the lying, all the hours of training, it has to be worth it and the only way that it can be is if I get better. To be the best fighter and hero that I can possibly be.

"Robin, you don't have to handle everything by yourself." M'gann twists her fingers together anxiously, but the look on her face is starting to freak me out.

"Look, I appreciate you trying to help but really, it's okay—"

"Who is he?" M'gann cuts me off sharply, reaching out to squeeze my arm.

"Who? What are you talking about?" I try to pull back but she tightens her grip.

"Slade."

My heart stops.

I forget how to breathe.

"Where did you hear that name?" I force out.

"From you."

"What?"

My heartbeat kickstarts itself and thuds against my chest so hard it hurts.

"Robin, I try really, really hard to keep my shields up and respect everyone's privacy but sometimes you all just project so loudly. It doesn't happen much but sometimes when you get angry or scared, there's things that come through. I keep seeing these fragments of your memories where you'd be fighting with someone and I... I actually thought it was Batman at first."

"M'gann."

"But it didn't make sense. Batman would never hurt you like that!" She continues without stopping. "I didn't want to say anything but I have to know. You're working for him?"

"No! You don't understand, I don't work for him. I just…" My jaw clenches and I look nervously at the door. "It's just training."

M'gann shakes her head and there are tears welling in her eyes.

"Robin, I've seen some of your memories. He's not training you. He's hurting you."

I take a breath and let it out through my nose, looking at the wall. I can't panic. I just have to make her understand.

"He saved my life, M'gann. He's trying to help me."

"Help you do what?" She demands.

"Be a better hero! And a better fighter!"

"Then why is it a secret?"

"Because Batman can't find out about it." I hiss. "Slade saved my life and all he's done since then is teach me how to fight. If Batman finds out that Slade is in Gotham, he won't stop until he arrests him. I'm not going to let that happen. I owe him way too much for that."

M'gann looks stunned.

"You… want him to train you?"

"Yeah, M'gann. I do."

"Even if you have to lie to Batman and go behind everyone's backs?" She asks bluntly.

I wince.

"Please listen to me. You can't tell anyone. If the League finds out about Slade, or if Batman finds out, it'll put him at risk. Everything he's done has been to help me and he's already put himself in danger for me. Please, promise me you won't tell anyone."

"You trust him that much?" M'gann frowns. Looking her straight in the eyes, I nod. Somehow, I have to make her understand.

"He saved my life. I promised him I wouldn't tell the League or Batman about him and if you tell them about him it'll—"

"I won't." She interrupts quietly. "I know about secrets. If you need me to keep this a secret, I will."

I blink at her. Does she really think I'm that stupid? She's going to tell Canary as soon as she leaves the room. I have to make her understand.

"You don't get it."

"What don't I get?" A strange expression crosses her face, almost a challenge.

"Everything I do, it's to try to get better. Batman is a great mentor, he really is, but he just wants me to be good enough. I don't have any powers, I'm never going to be the strongest or the fastest or the smartest, and if I stop pushing myself, I'm scared that I'm going to mess up. And if I mess up badly enough, someone might get hurt and I can't risk that. Slade pushes me to always get better and yeah, he can be really tough, but it's working. The League won't understand. They don't know what it's like not to have powers to fall back on if stuff goes wrong. I have to keep training with Slade."

M'gann's frown deepens. She squeezes her eyes shut, her face going ashen for a second, but then she stands up. Her hands curl into tight fists at her side.

"Robin, it's okay. I know about keeping secrets. I understand better than anyone else could," She says. Her voice is so solemn that for a second, I don't recognize her. M'gann is happy and bubbly and silly and the girl in front of me isn't any of that.

"What are you talking about?"

"I trust you, Robin. I really do. If you can trust me to keep your secret, then I can trust you to keep mine."

"Your secret?" I blurt, all thoughts of Slade replaced by confusion.

"I thought I could hide it but it's so hard and… I don't want to hide this anymore. I… I thought… I can't."

She closes her eyes and looks down. Then it happens. She starts to change, growing massive as her spine hunches over and her limbs elongate. Her skin bleaches to a shade of white so pale it glows. Her hair recedes into her head as red muscle bubbles out along her neck, chest and joints. Her features sink into her face, leaving a skeletal jaws and red eyes.

I step back. My jaw drops.

"You… you're…"

'_A white Martian. I'm a monster.' _Her words resonates through my mind, exhausted and afraid. Suddenly, I find my voice.

"What are you talking about? M'gann, how can you say that? You're not a monster."

'_Robin, look at me and tell me that.'_

"I am." I cross my arms over my chest. "I already knew you're a shape-shifting alien. I know you. What you look like doesn't make you a monster."

M'gann shifts, covering her body with her arms like she's trying to hug herself.

'_You don't understand.'_

The retort dies when I get hit with a wave of fear that makes my stomach curl with nausea. There's a long silence, both of us watching the other silently.

The longer I look at her real form, the more it seems to suit her. M'gann relies on telekinesis a lot, which makes sense if she's used to having longer limbs. And if her real body doesn't have a mouth, no wonder telepathy comes more naturally than speech. And maybe the red eyes were a little freaky at first, but it's still M'gann. I don't care what she looks like. I have no idea where her fear is coming from.

"Why do you think you're a monster?" I ask slowly. "Why haven't you shown the rest of the team what you look like? We all know you're a Martian. It's not a big deal that you want to use a human form while you're here."

M'gann takes the telepathic equivalent of a deep breath.

'_I always forget that you don't know what life is like on Mars,'_ M'gann starts, looking down at the ground. '_The majority of Martians are green, like Uncle J'onn and most of my brothers and sisters. Green Martians are genetically inclined towards peace and philosophical study. They build society up and keep our culture strong and beautiful. White Martians are… violent and savage. Almost a hundred years ago, the White Martians started a war, trying to exterminate the Green Martians. They fought back to defend themselves, and in the end, the White Martians were barely defeated. Any surviving warriors were exiled to the Still Zone, and it was only because of the compassion of the Green Martians that the White children were spared.'_

My jaw drops. "That's horrible."

'_We're dangerous. The laws put into place following the war were done for the protection of Mars, to ensure peace.'_

"What kind of laws?" I ask in English while my stomach sinks.

'_There are many regulations about where we are allowed to go, and what areas we must be accompanied by a Green Martian to enter. About how many White Martians can be in a clan. We can't own property because we're too territorial. We can't…'_

There's a long, painful pause.

'_I'm sure you get the idea.'_

"M'gann, I had no idea. That's horrible."

'_Uncle J'onn is giving me a chance I never thought I'd get. I can't mess it up and if the Team finds out what I really am… how can they trust me?'_

M'gann pulls her arms close to her chest, making herself look smaller. I take two steps and wrap my arms around her in a hug. She shudders before leaning in and suddenly she's shrinking and then M'gann is back to her human form, wrapping arms around me. Tears run down her face and it hits me that Earth is her safe haven. Her whole life, she's grown up hearing that she's dangerous, that she's a menace to her people, that she's inferior.

It's horrifyingly close to the stories my parents told me about when they were growing up, about the prejudices left over from World Wars and decades of propaganda before that. I think about how the genocide against millions of people started with them being labelled "inferior." Suddenly, I hate Mars with a burning fury and I grab M'gann in an even tighter hug.

"I won't let them send you back. Ever."

"You don't hate me?" She asks.

"Never."

"You promise you won't tell anyone?" M'gann demands.

"I promise." Under the full weight of the knowledge she's trusting me with, my secret seems like nothing in comparison. I'll keep her secret.

"Thank you."

"The others won't care," I tell her, trying to keep my voice from shaking, "If you tell them the truth, it won't change what they think about you. You're our friend and we love you."

M'gann stiffens, "I can't take that chance. Earth is everything to me. If I lose it…"

"I know. I just wanted you to know that… but I won't tell anyone, M'gann. I promise."

"Thank you," she whispers, tightening her grip for a second before releasing.

I turn away so I can take off my sunglasses and wipe my eyes. M'gann straightens and takes deep breaths, inhaling and exhaling slowly. The room is quiet. One of the benefits of having natural cave walls is that the mountain is really well sound-proofed. We can't hear anything outside, and nobody else is going to be able to listen in. I sit on the bed and M'gann slides to the side to make room. We sit together, staring at the wall. Her fingers wrap around mine and I squeeze her hand in response.

"I thought Earth would be different," she confesses. "And it is! In so many ways, it's so much better, but there's still so much cruelty here. Even here, in America."

"That's why we do this. To fight injustice however we can."

"What's going to happen now?"

"I don't know. We watch each other's backs."

M'gann is quiet for a long time. Her hand is still clenched around mine and I can feel her pulse settle.

"You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to tell me. But it feels… freeing, to tell the truth," she offers. I try to swallow but the lump in my throat makes it impossible. She's still trying to help me, even with everything that she's going through. I don't deserve a friend like her.

"It's not much of a story. And I'm not supposed to tell anyone anything. That was our deal."

'_Do you want to tell me?' _The mind link is suddenly more familiar and more comfortable than it's ever been. I close my eyes. M'gann wraps her arm around my shoulder again and now it's my turn to lean in.

'_Yeah.'_

'_Then we keep each other's secrets. You can tell me anything.'_

I exhale through my nose, emptying my lungs so I can take a deep breath. My mouth opens on its own and words start spilling out.

"My name is Richard Grayson. I grew up in the circus with my parents and my aunt and uncle and cousin. They were murdered when I was eight, by a man who was trying to extort money from the ringmaster. Batman took me in and helped me bring him to justice…"

* * *

The Batcave

* * *

"You're back?" Bruce says as I step off the Zeta-beam platform.

"Am I not supposed to be here?" I ask, clutching the bag with my uniform in front of my chest.

"No! I mean, that's not what I meant. I just thought you were staying the night."

"I wanted to be home."

"Oh." Bruce nods. "I mean, good! That's good. I'm happy to hear that."

I give him a half-smile that doesn't really reach my eyes. I'm too tired to feel anything but numbness. M'gann was right. Telling her the truth has lifted a weight off my chest that I never knew was there. But it was exhausting and now, all I want to do is go to bed. I start for the stairs that lead up to the manor, staring up at the giant t-rex as I pass it. There's a package of crayons and some paper on his back. Probably Cassie's but everyone loves climbing Rexy McDinoface. Everyone helped named him; I used to call him Bat-Rex, but I was overruled.

The Batcave is darker than usual. The lights over the trophy cases are off, and most of the spotlights in the upper sections of the cave have been dimmed, but that's normal for when Batman is working by himself at night. My eyes sweep over the motorcycle near the exit ramp, still parked where I left it after last patrol. I'm going to need to move it back to the garage soon or Bruce will yell at me.

"Night Bruce." I mutter, climbing up the steps.

"Wait."

I turn around. 

Bruce runs a hand through his hair and sighs.

"I'm sorry about what I said earlier. It didn't have anything to do with you."

"It felt like it did," I grumble.

"I'm sorry. That's my fault."

I pinch my lips together but don't say anything.

"Dick, I don't tell you this enough, but I'm very proud of you. Clayface is a dangerous opponent, and I don't want you to think that tonight is a reflection of your skills."

I shrug. Bruce moves forwards, kneeling so that we're at eye-level. He puts his hands on my shoulders gently.

"When you're part of a team, you're only as strong as your ability to work together. What happened tonight was the result of distraction and a lack of cooperation, not failure of any one person. The more you work with your team, the more capable you will all become. That takes time, and this is part of the learning process. You're doing great, Robin. I mean that."

I lunge forwards to pull him into a hug and he hugs back firmly.

"Thank you."


	11. Chapter 11

Dick Grayson

Somewhere in the Bialyan Desert

Monday, September 6th, 2012

* * *

My eyes open and the blinding light sends spike of pain shooting through my skull. I let out a cry and grab my head, waiting for the pain to stop. Slowly, it settles into a pounding headache that I can at least tolerate. I sit up, wincing when my head throbs again. My mouth is dry and my throat hurts like I swallowed a pile of broken glass. I rub my eyes to relieve the pressure and my hands meet fabric. I'm wearing my mask.

I open my eyes and my mouth drops open. I slam my eyes shut and open them again more slowly to make sure I saw it right the first time. The desert is still there. It's bright and empty, with nothing but yellow cliffs and orange sand as far as I can see. I push myself up using the rock wall at my back. The second I'm on my feet, my head throbs again and I realize just how thirsty I am. With another groan, I walk to the end and look around. A dust cloud forms in the distance, smoky, billowing and dark. The sound of an engine fills the air and my eyes widen.

Someone's coming.

I shoot my grappling gun up into the cliff side and duck between the rocks, hoping that I'm out of sight because my uniform colors could not stand out more. The engine roars and a military grade rover zooms past, armed soldiers hanging off the sides. I study the insignias as best as I can from my hiding place. The truck speeds off towards the east—judging by the position of the sun it's about twelve in the morning—as I try to remember what the insignias represent.

"Those are Bialyan Republican Army Uniforms." I realize suddenly, reaching for my holocomputer, "But what are Bialyans doing in, uh…"

The holocomputer displays my last open program, which for some reason is a GPS map and a red circle flashing over...

"Bialya? Okay, better question. What am I doing in Bialya?"

The timestamp on the bottom of the screen catches my eye.

12:02 06 – 09.

09.

"In September?! What happened to March?! What the hell is going on? Why am I in Bialya anyway? And where's Batman?"

My head aches again.

"Better radio him. He probably scouted ahead and got me lost." I mutter, raising my hand to the comm in my ear but before I can press it, I remember something.

"_Maintain radio silence at all times," Batman orders in front of the same GPS map as the one on my holocomputer._

"Or not," I pull my hand away from the comm. I scan the horizon, but it's all clear. Taking two steps off the yellow cliffs, I launch myself into the air and flip, landing softly on the ground. There's a small rock formation sticking out of the ground, covered by something black and red. I pick it up and my eyes narrow. 

It's a ripped piece of fabric with Superman's shield on it.

Superman doesn't wear black. He never has and I've heard him and Lois arguing about whether or not it would make him look evil too many times to believe that he ever will. Whoever's this is, it's not Superman's. But there's a reason this is here. There's no normal explanation for why Superman's symbol is in the middle of the Bialyan desert.

A bead of sweat rolls down my back and I lick my lips but there's barely any moisture left in my mouth. I check my utility belt, hoping for something that will help. Against all odds, there's a flask clipped to the back of my belt where mission-specific tools go. The flask is mostly empty, but there's still some liquid sloshing around when I shake it. I unscrew it carefully and take a small sip. The water is cool and soothing against my dry throat and it takes all the self-control I have not to drink it all at once. I screw the cap on tightly and clip the flask back onto my belt for later. My stomach growls and I reach for a protein bar. Luckily, the food-stash Batman commanded me to keep fully stocked at all times still has three bars left. That means I've already eaten two of them. Or at least, someone else has eaten them, judging by the fact that I still have water left and I don't think I've eaten in a while. I rip open the wrapper and take a big bite.

The sun is still beating down overhead and I look around for a shady spot. There's a little crevice between two rocks walls that gives me an idea. I pull on the release clip and tug off my cape. I pile rocks on one end of the cape and stretch it across the gap, yellow side up for camouflage, then I loop the top around a weirdly-shaped rock formation. It's not pretty, but there's a big spot of shade underneath my makeshift tent. I sit down and lean against the rock, letting out a deep breath now that I'm out of the sun. Sweat beads around my mask, making it itch unpleasantly, and I'm tempted to take it off. Instead, I pull off my gloves and let my fingers breathe. Heat radiates off my hands and I wrinkle my nose at the smell.

I must have been wearing these for a while.

A breeze drifts through and the cool air feels incredible. I try not to think about the fact that I'm stranded in the middle of the Bialyan desert with no contact and limited supplies and instead try to focus on figuring this mess out. 

How did I get here? Why am I missing six months? Why did Batman say to maintain radio silence? Where did the Superman logo come from?

"You've got superhearing, right Supes? If I stood up and yelled 'Superman' would you come?" I laugh, fanning myself with my hands. "That's a great idea, isn't it?"

It would probably work. It would also probably draw the Bialyan Army to my position. I lean my head back again, staring up at the black fabric of my cape. There are some weird brown stains on it that I hadn't noticed before. Did I have a run-in with Clayface that I forgot about?

"Definitely time for a cleaning."

The wind rushes past again, and it's the only sound for miles. It's eerie. 

Eerie.

That's a great word. Not much room for improvement. What if it was spelled Eery? Hm. No, that's just weird.

"Why am I in Bialya?" I mutter, laying my glove across my lap to access the computer again. The GPS map appears and I study it carefully.

Batman sent me. I know that much for certain. What do I know about Bialya? It's a dictatorship, ruled by Queen Bee. That's about it. What do I know about Queen Bee?

Another memory jumps back at me.

"_She's capable of enthralling anyone with a mature endocrine system with an attraction to women. Fortunately for you, it will be several years until you reach that point. Regardless, you should not engage her. The metahumans in her employ are incredibly dangerous. Should you ever meet Psimon, you will be fortunate to retain any brain function afterwards," Slade instructs and my hand flies across the page of notes._

Psimon! He's her most trusted enforcer and he's definitely capable of wiping out six months' worth of memories! But since when has Slade taught me about villains? If what I remember is really from six months ago, then has everything changed so much so fast? I never train with Slade more than twice a month, and we're still working on the basics of combat technique. Why would he be teaching me about supervillains?

A shiver runs down my spine.

"That's a little overwhelming," I say slowly. "But... it does explain some things. So what did the Queen do that made Batman send me to Bialya?"

I look back at the map and there's a GPS marker on a spot four miles directly east of here. Which is, of course, the direction that the Bialyan troops went in. At a normal speed, that would take maybe an hour and twenty minutes to walk. But right now? In the middle of the desert with limited water, food and a questionable amount of sleep? It's going to take at least triple that.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Then I pull my gloves back on, re-attach my cape and take another small sip from my flask.

"Let's go figure out what the hell I'm doing here."

* * *

By the time I approach the marker, the moon is high and the night sky paints a blue light over the sand dunes. I'm almost out of water, but the cool night air makes it easier to forget how thirsty I am. I just hope I can figure this out soon, or else I'm going to be in big trouble. I pull up the map as I climb the nearest sand dune.

"Now where are you?" I mutter as I get closer to the dot on the screen.

I scan the horizon in front of me. Beyond the next dunes, the sand slopes down. In the center of the pit, there's a huge mechanical box shaped like a giant trapezoid that has "League tech" written all over it. Not literally, but it might as well. I duck behind a huge sand dune for cover.

"Found you," I grin. Slowly, I peer over the top of the dune. This is definitely a trap. I'd honestly be more surprised if it wasn't a trap.

I scan across the sandy plane. There's no one in sight, but my gut still says something's wrong. I look more closely at the sand. After trekking through the desert for almost five hours, I know a thing or two about sand. Sand is coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere. I'm going to be pulling sand out of my uniform for the next month after this. But sand also lies flat or in peaks. The gently sloping sand piles surrounding the giant device look nothing like the thousands of ripples or dunes I've seen today.

I count five of them. I'm probably missing one or two. I jump into the air over my hiding spot and land a few feet from the device. I walk forwards and before I take two steps, soldiers rise out from their hiding spots. I grin.

"Called it," I mutter.

"_Her majesty wants him alive!" _one of the soldiers shouts. Either that or _"Her majesty enjoys newspapers!"_ My Bialyan isn't great.

The soldiers rush forwards, and I drop a smoke pellet. The thick black smoke billows out, but the lenses in my mask let me see through it. The Bialyans start coughing, telling me exactly where they are. I kick one in the head, and he's not even looking in the right direction. He collapses, gun flying out of his hands. Two soldiers turn at the noise, guns ready to fire. I throw two bolos at them and they both go down, arms bound at their sides.

I run back into the smoke cloud. The next soldier doesn't see me until I'm right in front of him. I spring up, kneeing him under the chin. The force of the blow sends him flying backwards where he crashes against the ground, flat on his back. I land softly and turn to see that more soldiers have arrived. I pull out two birdarangs in each hand and disarm two of the soldiers. The third one ducks and the projectile whizzes over his head. I charge towards him as two more close in behind me.

Jumping into the air, I grab the third soldier's shoulders and flipping myself over him. I twist, pulling him off-balance and using the momentum to kick the other two in the head. All three go down and I skid to a stop a few feet away. Before I can move, they're back on their feet. Three guns are pointed at me and rage radiates towards me in waves. One of them shouts something and the only word I know is "Fire!"

I flip backwards as they start shooting, landing just beyond their range. They adjust their aim, but before they can shoot, a black blur whizzes past.

"I'll hold that. Thanks!"

The blur skids to a stop and throws down all the guns. I almost cry in relief. Wally grins at me before zooming into the fray. He takes out two while I punch the last one. I hear a trigger click and whirl around to see two more soldiers taking aim. I duck as they fire, but an invisible force throws them back. I turn again to see a green girl materialize out of thin air. Wally takes out three more but the last soldier standing is sprinting away from the battle. There's the sound of an arrow notching and the arrow explodes into a bolo that wraps around the soldier's legs and sends him crashing to the ground.

Okay, so Wally and Speedy are here. Is the rest of the League here too? And who's the green girl standing next to me? I turn around to look for Speedy. Instead, there's a blonde girl dressed in all green. She grins down and Wally gives her a thumbs up in return, so I guess she's with us. Does that mean Speedy isn't?

Now that the battle is over, Wally runs over to me.

"KF!" We high-five and clasp hands tightly. "Man, it's good to see a familiar face."

"Hey, Rob," Wally laughs casually, "Memory loss?"

"Six months!" I exclaim. I nod back at the unconscious soldiers. "Let's hogtie these creeps and compare notes."

There's only seven of them in total, which is kind of disappointing. It seemed like there were way more of them. I've got to work on knocking the bad guys out with one hit. We get them tied up quickly, using rope that was in one of their trucks. Then come introductions.

The green girl introduces herself as Miss Martian. The arrow girl is Artemis. Miss Martian explains what she's remembered so far.

"So we're a team?" I ask when she finishes explaining. There's no way! I'm Batman's partner! I don't have time to be on a team and patrol Gotham too. Not to mention the fact that Batman would never agree to let me join a team. But Miss Martian nods.

"The four of us and Superboy."

Oh! I reach into my utility belt and pull out the scrap of fabric.

"Then this must be his."

"Yes!" Miss Martian exclaims, grabbing it out of my hands and demanding, "Did you see him?"

"I think we did," Artemis answers.

"Feral boy?" Wally asks, rubbing his chin in thought before putting his hands on his hips. "Some teammate. He attacked us."

"He didn't know who we are," Artemis pointed out, throwing her hands wide. "I don't know who we are!"

Wally glares at her and is about to retort, but I jump in before the conversation can deteriorate.

"I remember Batman ordering radio silence. Our team must work for him!"

"How do you know we don't work for my mentor?" Wally demands, tapping the icon on his chest. There's a digital clicking sound and bright yellow spreads out across his suit, turning it from a black version into his normal yellow and red suit.

"Whoa! This is so cool!" He exclaims, tapping his chest again. The rest of us all try tapping our chests but nothing happens. 

"We look ridiculous!" Artemis growls. She looks over at Wally who is still changing his suit's colors and her face contorts with irritation. He doesn't notice. "Quit touching yourself!"

Wally looks up at her, his face blank. Without breaking eye contact, he taps his chest again. Artemis groans. "Ugh! We need our memories back!"

Miss Martian looks down, rubbing her wrists. Then she brings her hands up to her temples and her eyes glow with white light. Then suddenly the desert is gone. We're standing on a platform in darkness, surrounded by streaks of purple light and shards of glass that are playing videos of the four of us. In one of them, I see myself in a green sweatshirt and dark glasses, grinning at Wally with this Superboy in between us. A column of light forms, splitting apart the fabric of whatever weird reality this is.

'_I brought you into my mind to share what I've remembered so far. But I need your help.'_

The column of light solidifies into Miss Martian, curled up in a defensive posture.

"Together, our broken memories can form a whole… if you open your minds to mine."

Artemis backs up fearfully.

"Whoa, whoa, hang on! You want to paw through our private thoughts?!"

Miss Martian holds up her hands. "I have no wish to intrude. But—"

"We need to hack our minds to get what happened to us. Got it. Go." I say, putting my hands on my hips. I'm not crazy about this—judging by the sunglasses, Batman wants me to keep my secrets hidden—but we have to know what happened. Better to just get it over with. Artemis glares at me.

"My brain's all yours. Try not to let its brilliance overwhelm you." Wally announces with a flourish and a wiggle of his eyebrows. I roll my eyes. The worst part about his dumb flirting routine is that Wally is actually a genius. Physics is his entire life outside hero work. But I can't let his head get too big.

"Or underwhelm you." I raise my eyebrows at him. "Hey, why isn't anyone ever just whelmed?"

Artemis still doesn't look convinced, but Wally steps forwards and squeezes her hand. She looks down.

"Last six months only. And only what you need," she finally says. Miss Martian nods firmly. She holds out her arms and closes her eyes. Beams of light shoot out form her hands, and then everything goes dark.

"The Watchtower detected an immense power surge in the Bialyan desert. Spectral analysis revealed elements non-terrestrial in origin. Find out what happened at that site, what landed there. Bialya is a rogue state, ruled by Queen Bee, and not a member of the League's U.N. charter. All communications are suspect to interception. Maintain radio silence at all times." Batman says in front of the GPS map from earlier.

The scene changes and I'm looking through a pair of binoculars.

"You'll land in Quarac, on Bialya's border, two clicks from the hot zone." Batman's voice says.

I look over at where Miss Martian and Artemis are standing watch as Superboy unloads the trapezoid device.

"All clear," I tell them. 

The scene changes.

"The Bialyans control the site," Artemis whispers. Artemis and I scale a sand dune and stare over the edge where a makeshift tent had been established.

The scene changes again.

Superboy is still carrying the enormous device.

"Set up here," a voice commands and it takes me a second to place the voice.

The scene changes again.

"We'll be up and running in no time," I hear myself saying, but all I can think about is Kaldur because that was Kaldur's voice and if he was here and he's not now then he's in trouble and we can't just leave him!

"Jackpot!" Wally yells, "The site's lousy with Zeta beam radiation."

"Detecting non-terrestrial trace elements from the tent."

"I'll check it out in camouflage mode," Miss Martian offers.

"Good idea. Go," Kaldur responds confidently.

The scene changes again.

"Careful," Superboy says.

The view pans over to where the rest of us are standing.

"And maintain telepathic contact," Kaldur orders.

"I will Aqualad." Miss Martian responds.

The scene turns to white, and suddenly memories are flooding back into my mind. The past six months fills itself in and I remember the last months of junior high and patrolling with Batman and playing hide-and-go seek outside with my brothers and sisters. I remember the day that I was supposed to have become a member of the League, but instead Aqualad, Kid Flash and I infiltrated Cadmus and freed Superboy. I remember arguing with Speedy, going on our first real mission and defeating AMAZO. I remember telling my siblings about Superboy and fighting with Uncle Clark and seeing Babs for the first time in months. I remember Clayface, the failed mission. I remember M'gann coming into my room and telling me that she knew about… about… about…

Black and orange fill my vision and suddenly everything spins and jerks back and the flood becomes a hurricane.

A barrage of memories hit me, all the bad ones at once. I remember the first time Slade brought me to the Haunt, I remember the first time we sparred and he stopped holding back, I remember Slade making me improve my hacking skills, I remember merciless fists pummeling me to the ground for talking back or messing up, I remember lying to Bruce and Alfred and Babs, I remember all the times I snuck away for training, I remember the exhaustion and the pride and the guilt, I remember fear when M'gann came into my room and told me that she knew about Slade. I remember the frustration as he demanded more and more of my time and the stomach curling fear at how much has changed in six months.

The first sensation to come back is that I'm shaking. Then I realize someone is shaking me.

"Robin!" Wally shouts and I open my eyes slowly. I'm on the ground, curled up in the sand. Artemis and Wally are watching me nervously, while M'gann's eyes are wide in horror.

"I'm okay." I tell them, not making eye contact with M'gann. She saw everything. I know it.

Did Artemis and Wally see it too?

Wally squats down and rubs my back in slow circles.

"Are you okay, Rob?"

His voice is so full of concern and helplessness that some of the tension evaporates. If he'd seen it, he would be demanding answers, not checking me for signs of brain damage. I nod.

"Yeah, just a little whelmed."

"What happened?" Artemis demands, looking at M'gann. M'gann frowns and hugs her arms over her chest, but she looks me right in the eye.

"The mind-share was severed." She says intently before looking away, "The sudden influx of memories without a conduit must have overwhelmed his mind for a minute. Robin, I'm so sorry!"

The mind-share was severed. She must have severed it, pushing my mind out so that the others wouldn't see what she saw. She did it for me, to protect my secret.

"It's okay, Miss Martian. I'm fine."

We make eye contact and I nod at her solemnly.

'_Thank you.'_

She nods back and relaxes, the anxiety fading off her face. I try to stand up but Wally pushes me down.

"Dude, you were shaking! Take it slow."

"I'm fine." I push myself up and Wally grudgingly helps me. "Where's Aqualad? What happened next?"

M'gann and Wally look away.

"We don't remember," Artemis fills in for them. "We don't have any idea where Aqualad is or where they took Superboy. Or why we lost our memories."

"Psimon."

Three sets of eyes snap to me.

"Who?" Wally asks.

"Psimon. He's a powerful psychic and Queen Bee's top enforcer. He has the power to pull off something like this."

"That sounds right," M'gann admits quietly. She looks up, "But we still have to rescue Superboy! And Aqualad!"

I pull up my holocomputer and frantically search for Aqualad's signal.

"He's close! But he's not moving."

"Let's go!" Wally shouts, lowering his goggles.

"Head six-hundred meters west," I point, and he's off in a blur. The three of us start running after him and after a couple seconds we see him trip and fall, crashing into the ground and rolling to a rough stop.

"KF!" I shout. By the time I catch up to him, he's back on his feet and brushing himself off.

"You okay?"

He nods, eyes slightly out of focus.

"Yeah, just low on fuel. Really low."

"Here," I pull out a protein bar and he takes it gratefully.

"How much further?" Artemis asks, eyeing the protein bar enviously. I reach into my utility belt and toss her the last one.

"Thanks," she says, catching it with one hand. Miss Martian's eyes glow and she hovers in the air for a few seconds. Then her eyes fly open and she points at a nearby sand dune.

"Over there!"

We rush over and climb over the dune, picking our way down another slope until we reach Kaldur's unconscious form, lying in the center of a group of rock formations. Kaldur's eyes are closed and he's not moving. M'gann reaches him first, flying directly over to him and putting her hands on his temples. The instant she touches him, he twitches and starts gasping out words in Atlantean.

"Tula, Mi somme, agapa usay."

_Tula, my heart, I am with you._

"He needs immediate rehydration!" I shout, "Miss Martian, call the bioship!"

"It's out of range, but you can get him there fast," M'gann protests.

"He's too heavy, and I'm too low on fuel." Wally shakes his head, out of breath and clearly exhausted. "Right now, I couldn't even carry her."

Artemis slaps away the hand that he points at her with a scoff.

"Why not just levitate him back?" She demands.

"I can't. I have to find Superboy!" Miss Martians lays Aqualad down gently and stands. Artemis and I exchange glances. "Six months ago, he didn't exist! He has no memories, just… animal impulses. I'm the only one who can help him!"

"Superboy's indestructible! Just ask those tanks!" Wally points back at the ambush site. "It's Aqualad who needs your help."

She doesn't move.

"Like now!" Wally adds sharply.

Miss Martian grabs at her head suddenly, eyes screwed shut in pain.

"No! Superboy's in pain! We can't wait," She yells. She shoots off into the air without another word.

"M'gann, wait!" Artemis yells.

"If Psimon mind-wiped us once, he can do it again!" I shout after her.

"Great! She's gone, and we have no way of getting Aqualad to the ship!" Artemis complains, throwing her hands in the air.

"How far is the ship, Rob?"

I pull out my holocomputer and locate the signal immediately. "A mile and a half northwest."

"Okay. That's not so bad, right?" Artemis says, looking between us for reassurance. Wally meets her eyes and whatever passes between them, they both look calmer. I reach into my utility belt and pull out my collapsible bo-staff.

"Can you find a long stick?"

I dig through the pockets of my utility belt, praying that Batman's preparedness paranoia will have given me something I can use. The back-left pocket is stuffed with miscellaneous items that I never thought I'd have any use for. I pull out a pack of double A batteries, elastic loops that Batman refuses to admit are just really stretchy rubber bands, and a vacuum-packed cube of cloth. I break the seal and shake the cloth out to its full size so I can start tying it on to the extended staff.

"How do you fit all that in there?" Artemis asks.

"You don't want to know."

Somehow, Wally manages to find a stick to use for the other side, and we have a makeshift stretcher. It takes all three of us to lift Aqualad onto it and we head out. Wally and Artemis start pulling the stretcher while I keep watch for Bialyan soldiers. We drag Aqualad through the desert, taking turns pulling the stretcher and keeping watch. We're a quarter mile from the bioship when there's trouble.

"There's a squad. What's the plan?" Kid Flash asks. I'm already gone, sprinting out from behind the dune to plant some explosive birdarangs and a voice recording in the sand behind the soldiers. They don't even glance at me before I'm back with Artemis and Kid Flash.

"Where were you?!"

"Breaking radio silence." I grin. There's an explosion behind us and the soldiers shout. The three of us sprint into action, taking down the remaining three before they have a chance to fight back. Once they're down, we don't waste any time in dragging the stretcher again.

"Just a little further!" I tell them.

Two minutes later, the bioship comes into view with a squad of soldiers surrounding it. Kid Flash and I look at each other and nod. Artemis pulls out her bow and notches an arrow.

"On my mark," I say, pulling out a birdarang and stepping out in the open. "Now!"

I throw it, and the projectile hits one of the soldier's hands and sends his gun flying. The other soldiers in the squad turn on me and start shooting. I flip backwards and stay out of the range of fire.

'_Take him alive!'_ One of them shouts, and I glance down at the bullets littering the sand. My mouth goes dry when I see that they're not really bullets… they're tranquilizers. Two of the soldiers charge me. I throw a birdarang hard enough to lodge it in one of their chest plates. The birdarang releases a cloud of smoke and I rush forwards. Elbow strike, side kick, duck, punch, chest kick. They're down. Behind me, Kid Flash and Artemis finish off the other five and there's silence. The bioship is ours.

We drag Aqualad to the ship and the hatch doors open. All three of us let out a breath when the doors seal behind us and we're safe.

"Camouflage mode." I say and the ship beeps, shifting suddenly so we're hidden.

It's easy to get the ship to reconfigure into an infirmary and Artemis retrieves an IV bag while Kid Flash and I lift Aqualad onto the table. She hooks up the IV drip and it only takes a few minutes before the color returns to Aqualad's face.

The three of us let out another breath but it's still not time to relax. Not until Miss Martian and Superboy are safe.

"Do you have a position on Miss Martian?" Artemis asks. I pull up the Bioship's main screen and show the GPS readout.

"I can't pinpoint an exact location, but she and Superboy are in the same area."

"What do we do?"

I hesitate. Miss Martian is the best equipped to handle Psimon, and if the Bialyans are trying to capture us, running in blindly while we're all dehydrated and exhausted puts all of us in danger. But if Miss Martian needs help, the longer we wait, the more danger she's in. Kid Flash makes the decision for us.

"Give it fifteen minutes. If they don't report in, we give the League our position and go after them."

Artemis and I nod. Kid Flash rummages through the emergency supplies and returns with three bottles of water and a handful of MREs.

Ugh. Those things are disgusting.

My empty stomach spasms at the thought of food, reminding me just how hungry I am. So, I grab one of the packets and the three of us choke down the emergency rations. Actually, Artemis doesn't seem to mind the taste, and Kid Flash inhales four of them in the time it takes me to finish mine.

Gross, but they get the job done.

Aqualad lets out a groan suddenly and we run over. He tries to push himself up but his arms shake so badly he collapses. Artemis reaches him first and catches him just before his head slams into the table.

"Hey, easy, Kaldur. Easy. Take it slow."

Kaldur blinks slowly, struggling to focus on her face.

"Kiven enste? Doanda secaray?!" He asks, clearly panicked. Artemis and Kid Flash look at each other in alarm, but I've never been happier that Kaldur taught me some basic Atlantean.

"Shemla, Kaldur." I move into his line of sight. "Ensten asimitas."

"Asimitas?" Kaldur finally manages to focus on my face, and his eyes flash with recognition while he visibly relaxes. "Robin? Doanda… where are we?"

"We're on a mission. Kid Flash is here too, and so is our friend Artemis," I say slowly. "I know you don't remember but I'll explain later. Just relax. You're safe."

Warily, Kaldur nods. He lets us lay him back down and he closes his eyes. The three of us exhale in unison.

"You speak Atlantean?" Artemis asks, looking impressed. I shrug.

"Enough to get by."

We sit in silence after that, anxiously watching the clock time by and pretending we aren't. We promised we'd give Miss Martian five more minutes.

'_I found Superboy and we're on our way!'_ Miss Martian's voice calls through the mind link cheerily.

"Thank god." Artemis breathes, and just like that, the tension is gone.

But then Aqualad bolts upright and panics, _'Who are you?! How did you get inside my head?'_

'_Hello Megan! I knew there was something I forgot! Don't worry, I'll be there soon.'_

"She's a Martian." I tell Kaldur before he can panic any more. "And our friend."

'_Oh man!'_ Kid Flash thinks suddenly. _'I forgot to get a souvenir.'_

'_Got that one covered,'_ Superboy thinks, but there's a lightness in his voice that sounds like he's laughing. That sound is more reassuring than anything else. If Superboy is in a good mood, then the rescue mission must have gone great.

That being said, the second they get back to the ship, we're gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dick and Kaldur's friendship is under-appreciated, and they're much closer than any of their teammates realize. M'gann is doing her best to keep her word, but is she really helping Dick by keeping his secret? And how much longer will Robin be able to pass off his familiarity with all-things villainous as Bat-omniscience?
> 
> If you're enjoying this, please leave me a comment and let me know! I've been finding a bunch of small changes and plot holes that I'm trying to close as I go so posting is taking long than I thought. Thanks for your patience and thank you even more for reading!
> 
> Atlantean Translations: (I made these up so don't worry about it too much)
> 
> Tula, Mi somme, agapa usay- Tula, my heart, I am with you.
> 
> Kiven enste? Doanda secaray? -Who are you? Where am I?!
> 
> Shemla, Kaldur. Ensten asimitas. - Peace, Kaldur. We're friends.


	12. Chapter 12

Wednesday, September 8th, 2012

Gotham Academy

Dick Grayson

* * *

"Good morning everyone." Mrs. McKendrick greets cheerfully. About half the class responds, some of them cheerfully, but most of them mumble something in a tone suitable for the first morning back from a break. My head throbs and I take a drink of water from the bottle on my desk. Babs casts a worried glance at me, but I'm just dehydrated. Really, dehydrated.

"I hope you all had a nice long weekend. Did anyone do something fun?"

Being Gotham Academy, a lot of people went away to their houses in the Hamptons or Martha's Vineyard. One girl just got back from an impromptu trip to Prague that she missed a week of school for. When Mrs. McKendrick gets around to me, she grins.

"You look nice and tan. I'm guessing there was a beach involved?"

I manage something halfway between a grin and a grimace and say, "Well, there was definitely a lot of sand," before taking another long drink of water. Mrs. McKendrick smiles.

"I'm glad you brought that up, Richard. How many of you were also at a beach this weekend?"

Most of the class raises their hands.

"Great. For the rest of you, I'm going to assume you've been to a beach before, so you all know what sand is like. Now, before we start our class today, I want you all to imagine that you're farmers in the 1930's, living down in Oklahoma. To grow crops, you need a couple of things. Anyone want to guess what those are?"

"Water."

"Sunlight."

"Seeds."

"Money."

"Tractors."

"Water."

"Mark already said that."

"No he didn't!"

"Yeah he did!"

"Alright class, let's get back on track. You're all right. These are all things you need. But… you're missing the most important thing that you need to grow things."

Babs raises her hand.

"Yes, Barbara?"

"Soil?"

"Right! You can't grow anything if there's nothing to grow in, and the nutrients in the soil are just as important as water or sunlight. Now let's go back to our Oklahoma farmers. Have any of you ever been to the Midwest? The soil out there is fluffy and rich and packed with nutrients, unlike the rocky dirt here in New England. Farmers in the Midwest had historically been incredibly successful, and the surplus they produced during World War I led to economic prosperity and the widespread adoption of new agricultural technologies."

Oh. I know where's she's going with this.

"After the war ended, farmers were left with huge amounts of surplus, but there were no armies to sell the crops to. The supply of food went way up for the general population, sending prices devastatingly low. Farmers lost enormous amounts of money and became crippled with debt. And then things got worse. All the years of over-farming drained the soil of nutrients and water, leaving already poor farmers with dust to try and grow crops in. Between a severe drought and wind erosion, the farmers ended up with what we now call the Dust Bowl."

She explains how there was a mass displacement of farmers out of Oklahoma and the Midwest and how huge farms ended up buying out most of the small family owned farms, and what the government tried to do to help. I tune out by the time she starts describing what it was like to get caught in a dust storm because I've had more than enough dust, dirt and sand for a lifetime, thank you very much.

My phone buzzes as she starts handing out copies of 'The Grapes of Wrath' and I look down to see a text from Slade.

'_I have a coding project for you. Hardison will be available from 10-2 to help.'_

I grin. Hardison's coding projects are just training exercises, but they're a lot of fun. Plus, he doesn't really get how good I am at hacking, so it's even more fun to impress him. Forget Steinbeck, finally there's something interesting to do.

Babs kicks my ankle under the desk and raises an eyebrow. I shake my head at her, telling her not to worry about it. She rolls her eyes at me and throws my new copy of 'Grapes of Wrath' at me.

* * *

'_Damn. I thought you were kidding when you said thirty minutes.' _Hardison types.

'_28:57.'_ I type back, fighting back a smile.

'_Kid, when I was your age, if I could get onto the Olsen Twins' MySpace I felt like hot shit. That's a replica of the system the navy uses to secure top secret transmissions. And you found a loophole in thirty minutes.'_

'_MySpace? How old are you, Hardison?'_

'_That's right, you weren't even alive back then. I bet you're in school right now.'_

'_Yeah. Study hall.'_

'_Middle school?'_ Hardison jokes.

'_Why does everyone think that?'_

"Hey Dick!" I hear someone call down the hallway.

'_Gotta go.'_

'_I'll send your boss an update. Good work, Gray.'_

I turn to see a mop of blonde hair and a wide smile as Bette Kane sits down next to me.

"Hi Bette."

Bette Kane is a year older than I am, and she does gymnastics with Babs. We're friends, but she's much closer to Babs than she is to me. I think her aunt had some stint as a vigilante. Bruce won't tell me the details about "Batwoman," but that hasn't stopped me from wondering if Bette will turn up in costume one day.

"What are you doing out here?" She asks, gesturing to the empty hallway. "People normally go to the library during study hall."

I nod at the wifi router on the ceiling above us.

"I'm doing a coding project. The wifi's better here."

"Ooh! Are you hacking the school's system to give yourself A's? Or turning the air conditioning on remotely so the whole school isn't an oven?" She raises her eyebrows and grins like she's in on a big secret.

"Nope. Just finding backdoors into the CIA's mainframe."

"Of course! That's what I meant to say." Bette corrects, assuming that I'm playing along with her instead of realizing that I'm completely serious. "You should join the coding club. I think they made it to nationals or something last year."

I snort. Another club is literally the last thing I need right now. Besides, I think I'm a little beyond making programs that print "Hello World."

"I think I'm busy enough."

Bette frowns at me. "Are you okay, Dick?"

"Um… yeah? Why?"

"You look exhausted."

"Wow, thanks."

"How late do you stay up?" She presses. 

If I don't have patrol or a mission or training and I've managed to get all my homework done? 1. If I do, 3, maybe 4.

"Not that late. I've been trying to get some more sleep, though." I lie blandly.

"Good. Look, Dick, you're only a freshman and you work way too hard."

"What, are you worried about me?" I tease. "I'm just a freshman right? Aren't you supposed to ignore me?"

"Oh, shut up."

"That's bullying."

She laughs, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. "I did actually have a question. Have you seen Babs anywhere?"

"Yup. She's in the cafeteria with Josh. They have biology in ten minutes."

"I knew you'd know! I've literally been running around the entire school. Our coach's birthday is coming up and we're throwing her a surprise party. If you see her, tell her she needs to sign the card."

"No problem."

"Thank you!" She stands up and dusts off her skirt. "See you later."

"See you."

Bette pauses, turning back to look at me. "Seriously, though. It's okay to take it easy once in a while. A little self-care goes a LOOOOOONG way."

I nod, lifting a hand to wave goodbye as she wanders off towards the cafeteria. 

_Take it easy._

I'd love to. Somehow, I don't think there's a lot of space for me to cut back.

* * *

The heavy oak doors swing open and quiet footsteps make their way across the hardwood floor. The steps are almost silent, but from the way the old floorboards creak and shift, the walker is heavy. The sound is also accompanied by the smell of fresh baked cookies and warm chocolate.

"Hey Bruce," I call.

"Alfred baked cookies and told me I had to bring you some," Bruce holds out a plate. "He also said something about getting off the computer and interacting with a human being. Don't worry, that part was meant for me. I think."

I laugh and snag a cookie off the plate. The cookies are still warm, and they have a perfect doughy-chewiness ratio.

"Phank you!"

"Don't talk with your mouth full," the corner of Bruce's lip twitches up. He grabs a cookie and sits on the couch next to me. "How's the… essay going?"

"Journal entry. And not great," I tell him with a frown.

"What's it about?"

"We're supposed to pretend to be Oklahoma farmers during the Dust Bowl."

"That seems at least mildly insensitive," Bruce shakes his head amusedly. I snort.

"Do you have anything written so far?"

"Uh… well, I was trying and I couldn't think of what to write, so I was trying to just get something down on paper and…" I scroll up to the top of the document and start reading. "Life has taken a turn for the worst. We expected the storms to last a week at most, but the dust just kept coming. Nobody has seen anything like it. Our farms have been devastated, and there is little hope for any crops to make it to the harvest. People have left the town in droves. The Kents left just yesterday, and if they can't stick it out, what chance do the rest of us have?"

Bruce snorts. "Clark will be proud to have a cameo."

"I was more thinking Grandma and Grandpa Kent," I grin, then continue, "We're setting out at dawn. California is far, but already it's one of the only places that will take us."

"It sounds good so far," Bruce says.

"Yeah, well then, I got to the part about getting caught in a dust storm and wandering aimlessly, and well…" I clear my throat and read him the next part, "and then we were stuck dragging our friend ten miles through the sand because he has gills and he can't survive in the desert while the only person who can fly your spaceship home runs off to rescue your other friend who's being tortured by evil scientists. And that's why deserts are bad."

Bruce is quiet for a second, looking equal parts guilty and like he's trying very hard to fight back a laugh.

"Well you're not exactly wrong." He says finally before glancing down at his watch. "You have to leave for training soon.

"Good call."

"Do you have the service group after?"

"Yup."

"Are you sure you don't want to skip tonight? It sounds like you still have a lot to do."

"No, it's fine. I can rephrase a couple things and use what I have, minus the whole, 'aliens, fish people and evil scientists' thing. Plus I have all the analysis done for the assigned chapters and I can throw that in the end." I look down at the time on my laptop. I really have to go. My phone buzzes and I frown. "Jake can't go tonight. He's coming down with something. Could I take a cycle when I get back from the Cave?"

Bruce blinks. "Alfred or I could take you."

"I know, but it would be faster for me to just take myself! And it's only a fifteen-minute drive from here! Please?"

"Alright." Bruce looks confused, like he suspects some ulterior motive but isn't sure if it's something bad or if I just want to drive a custom motorcycle that I'm not technically legally allowed to drive but am completely licensed and trained on anyways. "But if you get pulled over, you don't touch it again until you're sixteen."

"Aye aye. See ya!" I run out of the library, making a bee-line for the kitchen. Alfred is slicing carrots and celery sticks for Cassie, who's sitting underneath the kitchen table with a coloring book. "Alfred, can I take some cookies for the Team?"

"By all means, Master Dick."

Alfred piles the cookies onto a plate and hands me a foil-wrapped package.

"You're the best!"

"Nonsense. Now get going, I won't have you be late on my account."

"I'm going. Bye Cassie!"

Cassie opens and closes her hand at me without looking up. It's hard to be less important than a piece of paper and crayons, but I think I manage okay. I head down to the Batcave through Bruce's study and do a quick-change to get my costume on. Then I make my way to the zeta-transport.

"_Recognized, Robin, B:01."_

In a flash of light, the Batcave disappears and Mount Justice's control room appears. In another flash, Kid Flash zooms to my side and slings his arm around my shoulders, trying to tug the cookies out of my hand.

"Is that what I think it is?"

I laugh, holding the cookies away from him and fending him off with my other hand.

"They should call you Kid Nose. And back off! They're for everyone!"

"Rob, come on! I'm part of everyone! Aaaaand I'm your best friend, so I get first dibs."

"At least let me get to the kitchen."

Kid Flash grins. "Now you're speaking my language."

Before I can stop him, he picks me up and the world blurs for a second. Then we're standing in the kitchen.

"Speedster Express, at your service."

"You couldn't wait two minutes?"

"For Agent A's cookies? Nope!" Kid Flash grins. He drops me and pops a cookie into his mouth in the same motion, before putting the plate down on the table. I sit on the counter and grab one, savoring the chocolatey-goey perfection.

"I love Miss Martian," Kid Flash mumbles through a mouthful of cookies, "But man, she does not know how to cook."

"Compared to Agent A, nobody can cook."

"My mom can. She makes the best pot roast ever," he responds, pouring himself a glass of milk while simultaneously stuffing another cookie into his already full mouth. "So? Anything interesting happen today?"

"Well, my English teacher asked if I'd been to the beach lately. Apparently, I got a nice tan in Bialya."

"Too soon." Kid Flash winces. I snort in agreement.

"At least I didn't get a mask tan."

"What do you do when that happens?"

"Stage makeup." I shrug.

Kid Flash holds up another cookie as a toast and scarfs it down.

"Also, unrelated, I learned that if you kill someone in international waters on an unregistered boat and then throw the body overboard, they can't trace it back to any one legal system so you can't be prosecuted for their murder."

"…how did you learn that?" He asks.

"Are you sure you want to know?" I grin, "Plausible deniability and all?"

"Fine, then. Don't tell me. See if I come to your defense when the judge is about to send you off to Lian Yu."

"Please," I scoff, "Lian Yu is basically a vacation destination. Green Arrow's sent so many people there that there's probably an entire tourist industry."

"_Recognized, Artemis, B:07."_

"Speaking of…"

"Anybody home?!" Artemis' voice echoes.

"Kitchen!" Kid Flash and I shout together. Artemis walks into the kitchen a few minutes later, throwing her bow and quiver onto one of the stools across from the counter. She reaches for a cookie and asks, "Did M'gann make these?"

"I brought them." I answer. Artemis freezes, frowning suspiciously.

"What did you do to them?"

"Try it."

"Hard pass."

"Arty, just eat the cookie."

"Don't call me that."

"Try it!"

"Fine." Artemis takes a bite. Her eyes go wide. "Oh my god."

"Right?" Kid Flash grins like a maniac on a sugar rush.

"Holy shit! You made these?"

"Nope. Compliments of Agent A."

"Batman's butler," Kid Flash whispers loudly.

"Batman has a butler?!"

"_Recognized, Aqualad, B:03, Superboy, B:05, Miss Martian, B:06."_

"Duh. He's a cave butler. They come standard." I tell her in the most matter-of-fact tone I can.

"Shut up."

"The Arrow Cave doesn't have a butler? Huh."

Aqualad walks in, Miss Martian and Superboy behind him. He takes one look at the counter and his face lights up. He grabs a cookie and takes a bite, eyes closing in delight.

"Please send Agent A my regards."

"You knew about Batman's butler?!" Artemis demands.

"Batman has a butler?" Superboy blinks.

"Of course. Butlers are standard features in most caves and large caverns." Aqualad tells her solemnly.

"Guaranteed he already knew about your regards and sends them back." I answer Aqualad. He grins.

"That sounds about correct." He turns to Superboy and Miss Martian, holding the plate out. "You should try these."

Apparently, Aqualad has more credibility than Kid Flash or I do, because they both take cookies without hesitation. Superboy bites into one and his eyes go wide. Miss Martian's feet lift off the floor.

"Wow! This is incredible!"

"Right?" I grin. Superboy still just looks stunned.

"How can a cookie taste like that?" He asks.

I shrug.

"There's some secrets not even I know."

"Ready for training?" Black Canary asks, tossing her jacket on a stool and cracking her knuckles. We all groan. Or at least, Kid Flash and I do, and Miss Martian looks hesitant. Superboy always looks like he'd rather punch a bridge down than train, even if he's enjoying it, so he doesn't count.

"What's going on with you guys?" Black Canary asks. I debate whether or not its worth grabbing another cookie. If I do, I might feel sick after an hour of intense conditioning, but if I don't, they'll be gone by the time I get back. Black Canary spots the plate of cookies and sniffs once.

"Agent A sent these?" She asks. I nod.

"Well, I guess we could go over recent mission evaluations…" she says, reaching for a cookie herself.

"This would be a good opportunity to bring everyone up to speed." Aqualad answers.

"You're finally going to bring us up to Speed-y on your mission with Roy?"

"He prefers to be called Red Arrow. And yes, I believe the information will be helpful."

"Great. Alright, guys, gather around." Black Canary waves us over to the couches. I sit in my usual spot next to Kid Flash with Miss Martian on my other side. Artemis takes the spot next to Miss M and Superboy sits on the arm of her chair. Aqualad sits in the chair across from her, next to Black Canary at the head of the circle.

"I'm sure you're all aware by now that the League has been involving you in more individual missions instead of full squad missions. Smaller projects that require specific numbers or skills. I know the rest of you have also been busy with your mentors, but when it comes down to it, the six of you are a team. The more you know about each other's activities, strengths and areas for improvement, the more cohesive of a unit you'll be."

"Nice pep talk." Artemis snorts, but she's grinning underneath it.

"Or, we can put the cookies away and go back to training. I've got some hard stuff planned for you guys this week."

"No, it's okay, I'll take the pep talk."

Canary grins, winking at her. "I thought you might. So… last two weeks. Who wants to start?"

"I can," Miss Martian offers. "Superboy and I went undercover as the Terror Twins to try and figure out why so many villains were pushing to end up in Belle Rev instead of juvenile centers, asylums, or lower security prisons. We were there during the attempted jailbreak, which we… well mainly Superboy managed to stop. Icicle Sr. was in charge of mobilizing the inmates but we don't think he was the mastermind behind everything."

"I spent a lot of time with Icicle Jr. He didn't know most of the specifics, but he knew his dad wasn't the one calling all the shots." Superboy says.

"I couldn't get as close to anyone as Superboy did, but I picked up on a lot of conversations." Miss Martian continues. "Tuppence and Tommy are near the bottom of the social ladder and Killer Frost cared more about that than Icicle Jr. did. I think that's why this breakout was so bizarre. The Terror Twins had a three-year sentence at a juvenile rehabilitation center for property destruction and disturbing the peace. They're not hardened criminals. But they were in on an 'ice villain' plan."

"It seems far-fetched to claim it as a mere coincidence." Aqualad offers. Kid Flash snorts.

"Well it's no secret that all the Central City rogues work together. Captain Cold is the boss, and even if he's not behind everything that happens, they all report back to him."

"Do you think there might be some kind of copycat thing going on?" I ask Black Canary.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the Justice League has been around for a couple years now. It wouldn't be the dumbest idea in the world if the villains decided to make their own League."

"You mean like the League of Shadows?" Artemis deadpans.

"Bigger." Aqualad cuts in before I can say anything. "Although, according to Red Arrow's intel, they may well be a part of it."

"We have suspected that the Shadows might be expanding their reach," Black Canary says.

"Like Sportsmaster being on Santa Prisca during Kobra's takeover." Miss Martian offers.

"Or the Shadows attempting to assassinate Luthor during the Rhelasian peace talks." Aqualad adds. "Although, considering how lucrative his new weapons contracts are, I am unconvinced that he was truly in danger."

"That's got to count as some kind of insider trading, right?" Kid Flash points out. "Staging an assassination attempt to convince multiple governments they need to buy your merch?"

Black Canary sits up straighter suddenly.

"That is… a very good point, Wally."

Kid Flash winks. "Been known to happen. Ow!"

I feign innocence as he rubs at his arm where I just elbowed him.

"So basically we're sitting on a giant conspiracy." Artemis says.

"Right. The breakout was planned on every level, outside and inside. They had prison staff who helped them move supplies in, get into the offices and have everything in place. Even though there wasn't a mass escape, there's something wrong with Belle Rev. We shouldn't trust the way it's being run or that villains who get locked up are going to stay there." Superboy answers.

"But we don't know who's behind it." Miss Martian starts. "Superboy and I were talking about the missions we've been on and we can draw patterns for all of them. Cadmus was working on Project Blockbuster, which Robin and Kid Flash's analysis showed was a derivative of Bane's Venom. The Cult of the Kobra took over Bane's island, and the League of Shadows was after the Venom too. That's four separate groups who want the same thing. Even without counting the Ice villains and their 'friends' or the inside job at Belle Rev, I don't see how it could be a coincidence."

"But you're correct. We don't have any solid evidence about who could be behind something like that." Black Canary nods. "That being said, I think this is something the League will definitely want to discuss."

I look at Aqualad. He nods at me, before turning to Black Canary.

"I do not know if I speak for the others, but I would greatly appreciate a hard training session at this time."

* * *

The Haunt

* * *

"Again."

Chest heaving as I try to pull air into my lungs, I climb back onto my feet. I take three gasping breaths before curling my hands into fists and lowering myself into a fighting stance. I nod slightly and suddenly Slade is a blur of motion. I duck, sidestep and dodge Slade's fists, keeping my weight centered, my knees bent and my body low. Slade's fist glances off my shoulder, sending a shock-wave of pain down my side. I hiss but don't lose my focus. If the hit had landed, it would have dislocated the joint.

"Use your speed," Slade coaches, his attacks never faltering, "You're small and quick. Your opponent shouldn't land a hit."

He keeps moving forwards, pushing me back towards the wall the same way he's done six times already. I'm not going to make the same mistake again. Slade's leg raises in a sideways kick, but before his foot connects with my stomach I drop to the ground and dive through the space he left, putting his body between me and the wall. Slade turns, lowering his hands. He stares at me with his piercing, unblinking eye. His mouth twitches up into a partial grin and there's a gleam of pride in his eye.

Then, before I can feel too good about myself, he repeats the dreaded word.

"Again."

His voice is tinged with unspoken challenge. He knows I'm exhausted. He knows this is the twenty-third round. He wants to see what I'll do, how I'll react.

I don't know whether he says it to goad me or to relieve me, but he adds, "This is the last one."

I glance longingly at the water bottle on the ground at the edge of the mat. My arms protest the motion from sheer exhaustion, but I raise them anyways. With a grin, I say, "Bring it."

* * *

My motorcycle weaves smoothly through the streets and twists through alleys before I pull out onto the main road near Josh's apartment. If Bruce wonders why community service runs so late, he'll check CCTV feeds and think I went hang with Josh after. Wayne Manor is eight miles outside the South Village, so it takes me a little more than twenty minutes to get home. I pull the cycle around the back and sneak it through a small hole in the fence that goes around the back of the estate. I get to one of the back entrances to the garage and pull out my phone, accessing the security network. I type in my code to temporarily freezes the perimeter security and door alarms and unlock the door to the garage, and the automatic door raises with a quiet hum. I pull my bike into the garage and the security system resets behind me.

I park my motorcycle between a black Mercedes and a dark gray Aston-Martin. It's one of Bruce's favorites. It was designed for the newest James Bond movie, and there are only ten in existence. It's Cassie's favorite too. She loves playing driver in it. I move towards the hall, tucking my helmet in its cubby as I pass it. I hold my breath before I open the door into the Manor.

No sign of Alfred.

He hates when I stay out hours later than I said I would, especially on a school night. The coast is clear though. Yawning, I make my way towards the Great Hall, passing the ballroom. The double doors are wide open and I see lumps in the middle of the floor. Stephanie must have left her beanbag chairs in there again. I poke my head in and the lumps are a lot bigger than a beanbag chair. I move closer, trying to keep my sneakers from squeaking against the polished floor. When I get close enough to see, I press a hand over my mouth so my laugh doesn't wake them.

Steph, Tim and Cassie pulled together their beanbags, pillows, blankets and stuffed animals, forming a pile of cushions and sleeping kids. Cassie's thumb is in her mouth and Steph's arm is wrapped tightly around Timmy's shoulders. Checking to make sure that the flash and sound are off, I snap a quick picture. Alfred will kill me if I wake them up, but it's worth the risk. I yawn again and I almost decide to drop right next to them, but I still need to shower and change out of my workout clothes.

I rush out of the ballroom and up to my room, fingers crossed that I don't see Alfred. It wouldn't be the end of the world if he caught me, but he'll be annoyed at me tomorrow if I tell him I was working out until one. I glance at the clock on the wall above my desk. It's one-twenty. It's Thursday morning. School starts in six and a half hours, and Bruce and I are definitely going on patrol tomorrow… no wait, tonight.

I groan.

This is going to be another long day. I pull my hoodie and cargo pants out of the towel and throw them into my laundry hamper, sticking an extra t-shirt on top for cover. I shower in record time, and throw back the covers of my bed. I collapse onto the soft mattress and I think I'm asleep the second my head hits the pillow.

* * *

LexSecure eRecords Password Accepted.

Waiting for Verification...

Password verified.

* * *

**From:** LL94483@LexSecure.org

You've been quiet lately. I've heard rumors of an early retirement.

* * *

**From:** DT3b59N8v3st@LexSecure.org

The rumors are exaggerated. Suffice it to say, a project of mine has become much more time-consuming. What do you need?

* * *

**From:** LL94483@LexSecure.org

An accident. A competitor in Gotham has the potential to become a major problem if allowed to survive the week.

* * *

**From:** DT3b59N8v3st@LexSecure.org

Gotham means dealing with the Bat. That much risk might not be worth the payout. Give me a reason.

* * *

**From:** LL94483@LexSecure.org

200K

* * *

**From:** DT3b59N8v3st@LexSecure.org

Don't insult me.

* * *

**From:** LL94483@LexSecure.org

You've heard my price.

* * *

**From:** DT3b59N8v3st@LexSecure.org

Then I regret to inform you you'll have to find someone else willing to work in Gotham. I hear Deadshot only has another month left in Iron Heights. He'd love to hear from you again.

* * *

**From:** LL94483@LexSecure.org

500

* * *

**From:** DT3b59N8v3st@LexSecure.org

1M

* * *

**From:** LL94483@LexSecure.org

700.

If you can resolve this issue for me, I may require your services again. There tend to be a number of issues in my line of work.

* * *

**From:** DT3b59N8v3st@LexSecure.org

Paid in front. I've heard that you have a tendency to short-change contractors.

* * *

**From:** LL94483@LexSecure.org

-Transfer Record-

**Item #: **487918596

**Amount: **$700,000.00

**To: **DT3b59N8v3st@LexSecure.org

**Service: **International

* * *

**From:** LL94483@LexSecure.org

He doesn't survive to Thursday. Make it look like an accident. I hear he likes coffee.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Minor Character Death

Wednesday, September 15th, 2012

Grind A Day Coffee Roasters, Downtown Gotham

Maria Fording

* * *

"Coffee for Simpson!" Maria shouted. "Medium dark roast, 2 shots espresso, no room."

She put the drink on the counter and turned back to the register.

"Zank you!" Simpson called, smiling at her as he picked up his drink and she spared a second to wave back. He was one of her favorite regulars since he tipped well and never got annoyed if there was a long line. Maria always liked to come up with stories about her customers, and she imagined Simpson could have been a Swiss banker, with his smooth accent, perfectly tidy hair and impeccable suit. Not to mention the silver money clip he carried in place of a wallet.

A woman with electric blue hair and a pair of green headphones around her neck stepped up to the register. Maria decided that she was an aspiring indie-pop singer who wanted to make it big with her next album.

"Hi, welcome to Grind a Day, what can I get you?"

"Give me a large cappuccino with almond milk."

"Sure. Anything else?"

"And I want one of those gluten-free blueberry scones."

"That'll be six forty-five. Cash or credit?"

"Credit."

The customer handed over her card when there was a loud crash and several people shouted in alarm. Maria looked up to see a crowd of people gathering around the door as the room erupted into chaos. She pushed the card back at the customer and hurried out to the front of the shop.

"Go get Britt!" She called to Kyle, who immediately disappeared into the back to go find their manager.

"He's having a seizure!" Someone shouted as Maria pushed her way through to the front.

"Is there a doctor?!" Another voice shouted. Simpson was on the ground, face turning bright red and swelling quickly. His hands clutched his throat and he writhed.

"Someone call 911! He's having an allergy attack!" She shouted. At her words, at least five people pulled out their phones and started dialing. "Does anyone have an EpiPen?"

"Here!" An older man with white hair pushed it at her. She knelt down next to Simpson, ripping the blue cap off the end and slamming the needle down into his upper thigh, holding it for the count of five. She waited for a sign that it had worked, that he could breathe and his throat had stopped swelling, but the thrashing just got worse.

"It's not working!" She yelled, starting to panic.

"911 is on the way." Britt announced, kneeling next to her. Maria had no idea how her manager could be so calm at a time like this. "Just a few minutes. Get him on his back."

With the help of Britt and some of the other customers, they rolled Simpson onto his back.

"It's okay, you're going to be fine." Maria told Simpson, her voice shaking.

"Is there another EpiPen?" Britt asked calmly. The people who'd been watching in frozen silence scrambled back into action, digging through their backs and coats and yelling at each other frantically.

"I'll check his bag!" Kyle announced before ripping open Simpson's briefcase in a last-ditch effort. Simpson's face was still swelling and his skin was the color of a tomato. Sweat dripped down his face and his eyes were wide. He clutched at his throat, wheezing and huffing and choking.

"Found it!" Kyle shouted triumphantly, practically throwing another EpiPen at her. Maria scrambled to catch it, but shoved it at Britt as soon as she had.

"You do it! I messed it up before!"

Britt took the injector and paused.

"What are you waiting for?!" Maria shrieked.

"It hasn't been five minutes! You're supposed to wait."

"But it didn't work! He can't breathe!"

Britt looked down and her face paled. She nodded and nobody said anything to stop her. Maria held her breath while Britt injected him again. After that, everything happened so fast, but somehow so slow at the same time.

Simpson gasped and his chest rose up and down in rapid, shallow motions, moving faster and faster but it clearly wasn't helping. Maria grabbed Britt's hand a squeezed it tight, feeling Britt's fingers clench around hers in response.

"Come on, please, please." Maria muttered, watching helplessly as Simpson kept choking. "Please, please be okay, please…"

"Any sign of the ambulance?!" Britt shouted.

Silence fell over the coffee shop like a shroud.

"No!"

"Oh my god." A woman muttered, burying her head in her husband's shoulder. The man across from her sank into a chair, hands digging into his hairline. Everyone else had their hands over their mouths, eyes wide with shock and horror. Kyle dropped to the ground next to them and placed both hands over Simpson's heart. He started doing quick, hard and even chest compressions while he counted to himself. Maria couldn't move. She felt tears drip down her cheeks.

"Oh god." Britt whispered. "Oh my god."

* * *

Stop & Stop Grocery Store

Dick Grayson

* * *

"Alright, so Alfred needs us to be back within an hour," Bruce tells us, pulling the grocery list out of his pocket. "There's not that much stuff on it, so if we stay focused then we should make it back in plenty of time."

Cassie shifts in his arm, pointing excitedly at the cart.

"Car! Gimme Car!"

"She wants to sit in the cart," Timmy tells Bruce, not looking up from his Nintendo DS.

"I think we can manage that," Bruce responds, pulling out a shopping cart from the row. He starts to set Cassie in the kiddie seat, but she starts squirming and kicking.

"No! Car!"

"She wants to sit in the cart," Timmy repeats, focused intensely on his videogame, "She doesn't like the kiddie seat."

"Of course she doesn't," Bruce sighs before setting her in the main body of the cart. Stephanie giggles when Cassie immediately lies down, taking up the majority of the storage space.

Bruce turns to me. "Does she always do this?"

I grin and nod, trying not to laugh at his confusion. Who'd have thought the great and powerful Batman couldn't handle a trip to Stop and Shop?

"Where exactly am I supposed to put the food?"

I shrug.

"She'll move stuff around to fit. Also, don't get eggs until the end. Actually, you should just hold anything breakable because she likes to smash stuff together. Don't let Jason hold anything because he'll use it as collateral to get cookies, Timmy will probably drop it and Steph refuses to hold anything that isn't fuzzy or purple. She likes eggplants though, so if we need any give them to her."

Bruce takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Anything else I need to know?"

"Jason is trying to climb the Coke display," I point behind us, fighting back a cackle when Bruce whirls around.

"Jason! Get down from there!" He sprints towards the display, leaving behind the cart, the shopping list and the rest of us.

Oh boy.

What was Alfred thinking, letting Bruce go grocery shopping, let alone taking all of us? This isn't even Alfred's usual grocery store. He goes to this fancy place near the country club that has an order ready for him to pick up as soon as he gets there. Bruce is out of his league here and that means it's up to me. I grab the back of Timmy's shirt before he can walk in front of a very full shopping cart. Then I reach for our shopping cart.

"Let me push it!" Steph cries, grabbing for the handlebar. I step out of the way to let her, but she's so short that she can barely see over it.

"Do you want some help with that?" I ask her, keeping one of my hands on Timmy's shoulder.

"No! I can do it!"

I wait patiently while she struggles to maneuver the cart towards the food aisles. It's not a fast process, but every time I try to help her, she tries to bite me. It doesn't help that Cassie is now standing at the front of the cart, bouncing up and down yelling, "Go! Go! Go!"

Slowly, we manage to make it to the Coke display. Bruce got Jason down without knocking the entire display over, but he didn't do it in time to stop an angry employee from storming over.

"Hey! Keep your kids off the display! If he knocks it down then you're going to have to buy-" The employee stops dead. His name tag reads, "Kenny."

"Oh my god… you're Bruce Wayne! No way! You…still can't let your kids climb… but I mean… you're… Wayne…"

Bruce sighs and the muscles of his jaw clench. He puts on his warmest, fakest smile.

"I'm so sorry about that. Jason won't do it again. Isn't that right, Jason?"

"Sure, whatever."

"It's no problem, Mr. Wayne! If you need anything let me know. It's an honor to have you in our store today. Uh… I'm… my name is Kenny, Kenny Peterson, and I'm the assistant junior manager, if you want to send an official commendation to the regional manager. Not that you have to! I just wa-"

"Absolutely. I'd be happy to," Bruce interrupts before Kenny can continue. "Thank you for your understanding, but I'm actually on a bit of a tight schedule."

"Thank you so much! I'll let you get back to your shopping! If there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask!"

"I'll keep that in mind." Bruce starts to walk towards the produce aisle, keeping Jason by his side. After a second, he realizes that the cart and the rest of us aren't following because Stephanie got one of the wheels caught in a stray plastic bag.

Bruce sighs, moving back over to the Coke display. He crouches down, staining the leg of his custom-tailored pantsuit on the soda encrusted linoleum floor. Jason takes the opportunity to wriggle out of Bruce's grip while he struggles to detach the cart. Cassie continues to jump up and down, making Bruce's task even more difficult.

Finally, Bruce manages to get the wheel and the shreds of plastic bag separated. He stands up, dusting off his hands and grabbing the handle.

"No!" Steph shouts, grabbing the bars. "I want to push it!"

"We've been here for five minutes and we haven't gotten past the entrance. We need to move quickly, and that means you can't push the cart right now."

Jason and I glance at each other, trying not to laugh. Bruce is a sucker for puppy eyes and there's nothing my little sister hates more than being told 'no.'

Sure enough, Stephanie's lower lip begins to tremble, her head tilts to the side, her eyes open wide.

"But Alfred always lets me push it!" She whimpers.

A tear makes it way down her face, and as it does, her adorableness increases. Bruce stares back at her with icy stoicism and irritation. It takes about two seconds for him to melt.

"Please? Daddy?"

Jason and I snicker. She's good at it, but Steph should really know better than to use the full power of her puppy face for something as trivial as pushing a shopping cart. I guess you can't really tell an eight-year-old what to do.

Bruce finally sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose again.

"Alright, fine. You can push the cart."

Stephanie's face lights up and she throws her arms around him.

She lets go and grabs onto the cart, pushing it happily towards the produce aisle. Bruce stares after her for a second with a shell-shocked expression on his face. Then he shakes his head, puts a hand on Timmy's back to direct him, and follows Steph through the store.

"He threw someone off a building last night," I comment offhandedly to Jason. Of course, he made sure there was a pile of full garbage bags and an old mattress to cushion their fall so they wouldn't get hurt.

"Batman, mighty protector of Gotham, vanquished by a puppy-face. Don't let the rogues find out, or the city is doomed," Jason smirks. I snort, imagining the utter chaos that would erupt if any of the Rogues could see Bruce's soft side.

"Why were you on the display?" I ask, watching as Timmy almost walks into a stack of tomato-sauce jars.

"It looked fun."

Jason punches my arm and points to a tall display of high-end maple syrup near the oranges. The glass bottles are stacked intricately in a looping pattern that reaches chest-level.

"Wanna play Jenga?"

I roll my eyes.

"We're not playing Jenga. Jay, you should cut Bruce some slack. He's never gone grocery shopping with all of us before."

Jason shrugs.

"C'mon Goldie, he can handle it. He's Batman."

"Not even Alfred takes us all shopping."

"That's because Alf knows what he's doing."

"Are you saying Bruce doesn't know how to do the grocery shopping with kids?"

Jason pretends to look scandalized and protests, "I'm just wondering if he's ever done the grocery shopping at all."

"Okay first of all, you know for a fact he hasn't. And second, taking it easy on him is the best way to get him to buy you Pop-tarts."

"Nah, I already got that covered. I put pop-tarts on the list in Alfred's handwriting."

"That's not going to work. He knows Alf's handwriting too well."

"That's why you're going to read the list to him, and tell him it's real."

"You want me to lie to Bruce over something stupid. What's in it for me?"

"I'll share my pop-tarts."

"And?" I prompt, crossing my arms.

"I don't know, uh, I won't bother you and Roy at the next Wayne party?"

"Jay, Roy already likes you better than me. Plus, he always ditches now."

"How 'bout I cover for you the next time you sneak out," Jason offers.

The floor drops out from under me and my heart stops.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know, when you say you're at 'community service' but you don't get back until two in the morning?"

"Jason, promise me that you will not tell Bruce or Alfred about that. You can't tell them!"

"I wasn't gonna." Jason scowls and crosses his arms over his chest. "I just figured you might want a cover story in case they catch you."

"Jay, I'll help you with the Pop-tarts, but you have to promise me you'll never tell them about me sneaking out. Please!"

He looks even more suspicious, but finally he makes a face at me and nods.

"Your secret's safe with me, Goldie."

"Don't call me that."

"What are you going to do about it, Goldie?" He sticks his tongue out.

I would shove him, but we've left Bruce alone for too long already and I decide to be the bigger guy. And also because Jay is eyeing the maple syrup display and I don't want to be a human bowling ball. We catch up as Cassie begins grabbing everything within arms' length and stuffing it in the cart around her.

"Stephanie, can you grab some oranges?" Bruce asks, putting a four-pound sack of beets back on the shelf and trying to stop Cassie from grabbing it back.

"I got it!" She grins, flouncing off to the fruit display.

"Make sure to get fresh ones," Bruce adds, playing tug-of-war with Cassie for his shirt sleeve. Jason and I follow Stephanie, watching as she pulls oranges off the pile and inspects each of them individually. She picks up a lumpy one, makes a face and puts it back. She starts digging deeper, pulling oranges from the edges of the pyramid, but the next eight aren't even close to good enough. She purses her lips and studies the stack of fruit carefully, eyes moving slowly over the display. It starts at the top and gets lower and lower and lower until… she finds the perfect one. Her eyes shine bright with victory. She reaches for an orange at the very bottom of the pile and pulls, holding up her prize triumphantly.

Then the entire display caves in, and oranges plummet off the table like barrels going over Niagara Falls and she lets out a yelp before she's buried under a cubic foot of fruit.

"Oh, for the love of…" Bruce sighs and runs over to rescue Stephanie. Kenny the assistant manager hurries over, apron and glasses askew.

"Don't worry about this, Mr. Wayne! It's not a problem! We'll have it cleaned up in a jiffy- AAAH!"

The "AAAH" is accompanied by Kenny slipping on an orange, tripping forwards, and crashing into the display of fancy maple-syrup. A four-foot wall of maple syrup comes crashing down against the linoleum floor, smashing into pieces and spraying sticky syrup in an arc through the air.

"Cleanup in aisle one," sounds over the loudspeaker after a few seconds of chaos. I look back at the cart in time to see Cassie drop down to the ground and pull on Timmy's hand. He follows her blindly into the next aisle, face buried in his DS.

Uh-oh.

I look around for Jason, but he's gone. Bruce, now covered in syrup and orange pulp, is apologizing profusely to Kenny and trying to pull Stephanie out of the pile without her getting cut on any glass.

I'm still holding the shopping list.

_Broccoli, five crowns._

Moving through the chaos like that scene from Pirates of the Caribbean with the guy walking down the exploding staircase, I put a few heads of broccoli in the empty shopping cart.

"I have to go to the bathroom!" Stephanie announces as Bruce lifts her off the ground. He looks at her and sighs. Then he sees me crossing apples off the shopping list. And that's when he realizes the rest of his kids are AWOL.

"I can go by myself," Stephanie reminds Bruce. Bruce blinks at her and he gives his best '_There is no way in hell I am letting you do that'_ face. 

He looks at me, at the shopping cart, and then back at Stephanie.

"Want me to call Alfred?" I offer, pulling out my phone.

"No!" He snaps, "We're fine. Just give me a second."

"I hafta pee!" Stephanie reminds him. Bruce sighs again, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. He turns to me, trying and not really succeeding at hiding the desperation in his face.

"Please go find your siblings."

"I've got it," I assure him. He looks so relieved I don't have the heart to tell him it's probably too late. Bruce takes Stephanie to the bathroom, not looking back as custodians descend on the mess. I stick the grocery list into my pocket and head towards the aisle the runs through the center of the store, keeping my eyes and ears open. I pass by the snack food aisle and stop dead. Timmy is sitting on the ground in front of the corn chips, face buried in his DS. I turn the cart and make my way towards him, waiting to see if he notices me. He doesn't.

"Hey Timmy," I bend down, waving a hand at him.

"Hey." He doesn't look up. His face screws in concentration and he clicks the button rapidly. After a few seconds the screen brightens and he relaxes.

"Where's Cassie?" I ask.

"Hide-and-go-seek," he answers, mind still trapped in the game.

"Hide-and-go-seek?" I repeat, waiting for him to realize exactly what he just said.

"Yeah."

I wait. After a second, his head shoots up, a look of semi-horrified realization on his face.

"Oops." He says after a second.

"Yeah, oops." I tell him, holding out my hand for his DS. He closes it and hands it over guiltily.

"Where did she go?"

"I don't know!" He protests, "I wasn't looking."

"When did you start playing?"

"Uh… ten minutes ago?"

Ten minutes. A hyper five-year-old looking for somewhere to hide in a place with thousands of nooks and crannies to slip inside of and shelves to climb and we're absolutely never going to find her. Deep breath. It's fine. Stephanie is with Bruce, Tim and I are going to find Cassie. She'll probably be somewhere up high. She loves to climb stuff. Tim follows me out of the aisle and I turn around when we get to the refrigerator case full of butter. That's the best spot to see a tiny black-haired child standing at the very top of the cereal shelves, balancing on a tower of Cheerios boxes to try and reach the aisle 8 sign.

My stomach drops.

Everything happens in slow motion. The boxes of Cheerios under Cassie's feet tip over as she jumps to the sign. The problem isn't that she might fall and hurt herself. The problem is the avalanche of cereal boxes the fall in her wake, and the sudden mob of concerned shoppers that might notice a five-year-old hanging from a sign ten feet off the ground. Tim and I rush forwards, crunching through the wreckage of cardboard boxes and thousands of spilled Cheerios, leaving cereal dust behind us.

"Get down!" I call to Cassie when I'm standing below her.

"No!" She giggles.

"Cassie, please!"

"No! Be tall!"

"For me? Please!"

Cassie sighs dramatically, but lets go of the sign. The crowd of onlookers gasps and she plummets down. I catch her, but the angle is bad and we both hit the ground. Cheerio dust fills my nose and mouth and I cough, but it's hard to get the air back when Cassie is sitting right on my chest.

Then it gets worse.

Everyone has their phones pointed at us, and there's a man in a News 12 vest with a real camera. I close my eyes, let my head fall into the pile of cereal on the ground, and groan.

* * *

_Recognized, Robin B:01._

The cave materializes around me and the first thing I hear is hysterical laughter filtering in from down the hallway. Wally's hysterical laughter. My stomach sinks, but I force myself to make my way to the living room. Sure enough, it's my worst nightmare. M'gann, Conner, Wally and Kaldur are sitting on the couch, a bowl of popcorn sitting untouched on the table in front of them, in preparation for the movie night that should have already started. But instead of a Quentin Tarantino movie, the news is on.

"...shopping trip got a little out of hand today for billionaire and father of five, Bruce Wayne."

"Robin!" Wally whirls around. Tears are coming out of his eyes in between bursts of laughter. "Oh my god!"

"Have you... seen the news recently?" Kaldur is laughing too, but he's being slightly more reserved about it. I shoot both him and Wally a glare, stomach sinking through the floor while I refuse to look at the screen.

"Celebrities, maybe they're not so much like us after all," the other anchor jokes. Nope. Nope, nope, nope, not dealing with this.

"Sorry, what did you say, M'gann?" I turn to my new favorite teammate in the world.

"I thought you couldn't make it tonight," M'gann says, valiantly ignoring the laughter behind her.

"I just came to drop off a book Canary lent me," I say. "Besides, Batman will kill me if…"

I trail off as the screen switches and Wally and Kaldur erupt in a new round of laughter. I finally summon the courage to look at the tv and see a very irate Bruce covered in maple syrup and bits of Cheerios, dragging Stephanie in one hand and Jason in the other. The newscaster looks like she's close to tears as she fights back giggles and her colleague breaks off into a 'coughing fit.' Wally falls off the couch laughing.

Nope, that's it. I'm leaving.

"I'll see you tomorrow," I say hurriedly.

_Recognized, Robin, B:01._

I lean my forehead against the wall of the phone box and take a deep breath, trying to get control of myself. Oh my god. It was one bad trip to the grocery store. Why did it have to get on the news? I need to have a low profile, not have my face plastered all over the news! At least there wasn't any video of Cassie jumping off the sign. I groan and thump my head against the wall again.

An alarm on my phone goes off and I jump. It's almost 7!

I run out of the phone booth and around the corner to where my motorcycle is waiting. I can't be late.

But I do have time to put on a pair of sunglasses and a hat and make sure my hair looks as messy as possible. You can't be too careful.

* * *

The Haunt, somewhere in Gotham

* * *

"Why are we stopping?" I ask, watching blankly as Slade grabs his towel and moves towards the door. "I thought we still had another hour?"

Slade nods.

"There's something else we have to do tonight. I promise it will be easier than this."

He turns right and disappears down the hallway, leaving me alone in the training room. I look around at the mats and equipment before shrugging and grabbing my water bottle and towel. I follow him into the office, watching in confusion as he starts clearing everything off the table in the center of the room. He moves the stacks onto his desk, piling the papers precariously high. There are dozens of photographs of the exteriors and interiors of various buildings, and about thirty pictures of security cameras and motion sensor locations. Slade stuffs them all into an envelope and tosses it on his desk.

"Sit," he nods at the folding chair that normally functions as my desk chair. I hang my towel over the back of the chair and sit, taking a gulp of water while Slade does… whatever it is he needs the whole table for. He rolls a stack of blueprints into a tube and shoves the tube into one of the drawers. Then he turns to the newly-cleared table and shakes his head. 

"I'll be right back. Don't move." He orders, storming out of the room.

I crinkle my nose at his words. Where am I possibly going to go?

To spite him, I get up and walk over to his desk to look at the precarious stack of papers. The top one is an account sheet, covered in numbers. I look closer, scanning through the financial statement the way Bruce taught me to during one of his endless board meetings where people just talk at him for six hours. It's a statement for an offshore account. A very large amount of money was transferred into Slade's account from an unknown party. The transaction is labelled with today's date. I shrink back, pressing my hands over my mouth so I don't let any sound out. Most of the jobs Slade accepts pay immediately upon completion. Whatever this contract is, it happened today.

Slade killed someone today.

Footsteps echo in the hallway, steel boots against cement. Slade is right outside the door. I scramble back to my seat, trying to look bored and not absolutely terrified or out of breath. The door swings open and Slade enters with a large black case in his hand. The door closes with a loud snap. I flinch. Slade's head swivels towards me and I look away, staring at the dust accumulating on the ground around the table's legs.

Slade lets out a low chuckle and moves around to the other side of the desk. Paper rustles and then he's moving towards me. I cross my arms over across my stomach and look at the door.

"I'm going to assume by your suspicious silence that you saw this?" Slade thrusts the paper at me and I clench my hand nervously, keeping my head turned the other way. "Richard, answer me."

I let out a long breath and mutter, "Yeah."

"So despite me explicitly telling you not to move, you decided you'd investigate my affairs anyway?"

I swallow, but Slade is waiting for an answer.

"Yeah."

"Knowing that you would regret seeing whatever you found?"

The hair on the back of my neck rise and my hands are getting clammy. I squeeze them tighter, looking at how pale and bloodless my knuckles look instead of looking at Slade's expression. Judging by the cold, smooth tone of his voice, I'm screwed.

"Since you're so curious, would you like to hear the details?"

My eyes narrow and a pulse of adrenaline floods through my body. I glare up at Slade.

"I don't need to hear them. Someone paid you a lot of money, you pulled a trigger, and now there's one less person on the planet."

Slade snorts and sits on the edge of the table, setting the case down on the ground with a soft thump.

"You know, ordinarily you'd be right. But not for this one. It had to look like an accident."

"What, did you hit them with your car?!"

"Less violent."

"I don't want to play twenty questions to figure out how you murdered someone!" I snap.

"Then you should have listened to me the first time," Slade replies smoothly. I lean back, glaring at the floor. He's not going to back down, so I just have to get through it as fast as I can.

"Poison?"

"Very close."

"I don't know."

"Think."

I bite my lower lip to stop myself from retorting.

What do I know? The murder looked like an accident. Slade didn't shoot the target, hit them with a car or do anything that violent. Poison is close, but not right. How can you kill someone by kind-of poisoning them and make it look totally accidental?

"Where were they?"

"Leaving a coffee shop."

"Where were they going?"

"Based off their morning commute, the target was heading to work."

"How?"

Slade raises an eyebrow.

"I mean, how were they getting there? Like in a car, or a bus?"

"Taxi."

"Were you the taxi driver? Did you put something on the door handle or the seat? Like a weird poisonous vapor that you're immune to?"

"No. I told you, it wasn't poison."

"But you were the taxi driver, right?"

"No."

"Did you hire the taxi driver?"

"No. It was just a regular, completely ordinary taxi," Slade states dryly, "You're going to have to think a little harder."

His mouth quirks up to the side for a fraction of a second, the same way that Batman's does. He's is laughing at me. I grind my teeth together and try again.

"Whatever you did, did you do it before the target got coffee or after?"

"Before."

"Did you do something to the coffee?" I guess, shrugging my shoulders.

"In a matter of speaking."

"But not poison."

"No."

"Was it something they were allergic to?" I ask, but even before Slade nods I know it's the right guess. "You put something they were allergic to into the coffeepot so that they would have an allergic reaction! And… you stole their EpiPen so they couldn't get epinephrine while they were in the taxi."

"Replaced both of them with an inert substituted, but otherwise correct."

"But what if someone else had the same allergy? You could have killed a bunch of people!"

"It is a possibility, but fortunately, the allergy is very rare in America."

"What allergy?"

"Celery."

"What?"

"Celery. It's a very common allergy in parts of Europe, particularly in Switzerland, the target's home country."

"You killed someone with celery?!"

"Celery causes an incredibly severe reaction. Adding a small concentration of celery water to the coffeepot was more than sufficient to cause the reaction."

"But you killed them with celery."

"Yes."

My eyes drift down, absently scanning across the wall behind Slade. My brain is spinning. Slade murdered someone and he made it look like a total accident. People have allergic reactions all the time. Most of the time they have an EpiPen or they get to the hospital in time, but sometimes they don't. And even if someone suspects foul play, all they'll find is celery. Celery! There's nowhere for an investigation to go from there. Slade is going to get away clean.

A hand squeezes my shoulder and I jump.

"It will be a very long time before I teach you how to use vegetables for evil," Slade says. "So for now, let's get back to business."

My stomach squeezes so tightly I can't breathe. He picks up the case and lays it on the table. It's a thick black briefcase, with silver clasps.

"Open it." Slade orders.

I slide off the chair and walk over to it, stomach churning nervously. I take a deep breath and undo the clasps, lifting the lid. There's a piece of orange and black fabric on top. I pick it up and it unfurls into a uniform. I inhale sharply and almost lose my grip on it.

"I'm not sure how it will fit, but I can get it resized. You'll have to try it on."

I shake my head, mouth opening and closing. No sound comes out. Slade pulls the uniform out of my hands and lays it flat on the table. It's mainly black, with a section of orange from the chest to the belt. Unlike my Robin uniform, which is a synthetic fabric as strong as Kevlar, there's armor built into it. When I put it on, it'll be like wearing a hockey chest-guard.

"How am I supposed to move in that?" My voice comes out hoarse.

"We can adjust it later to suit your fighting style better," Slade says in a tone that suggests I need to adjust my fighting style to fit the suit.

I bite my lip and look down.

"What are those?" I point to the case, where there's an odd assortment of equipment.

"This is your new arsenal. You won't have a utility belt, so it will take some getting used to. There are a dozen pockets on the arms and legs, and you will have holsters for additional weapons. Those will come later, though."

I pick up an S-shaped projectile and risk an eyebrow-raise, trying to be funny in an attempt at pretending that any of this is fine.

"I know you like your theme, but this is a little much."

"What do you call your custom-made projectiles, Robin? The bird-shaped ones?" Slade asks, "Oh, right. Birdarangs. I think we'll call it even on theme."

My cheeks burn and I set the projectile to the side. 

A pair of canisters comes out of the case next. They're almost identical; both small, but one has a ring on the end.

"Grenades. I admit, they're a bit old fashioned, but they come in very handy on occasion. This design is impossible to trigger accidentally, and you will use the utmost caution at all times." He holds up the other one, which has the ring. "This is just a smoke bomb. It will produce a much denser smoke than the pellets you use now. I'm sure I don't have to tell you this, but do not inhale the smoke."

"Why? Is it poisonous?"

"Not in small doses. But you will pass out."

Next, Slade hands me a metal cylinder, finger aimed at a small indent near the center.

"Press there." He instructs. With a click and a hiss, it expands into a metal bo staff. I twirl it over my palm to test the balance and it slashes through the air without any resistance.

"It's so light," I heft it up and down, and it barely takes any effort.

"It's an experimental alloy designed for military use. It's supremely light and incredibly strong. If you'd prefer, the staff can be configured to extend blades from either end."

"Uh…" I press the catch again and the staff collapses back to its previous size. I place it on the table next to the projectiles. "I'll pass for now."

Slade shrugs and tosses me the next item in the case. A pair of sturdy black gloves, almost exactly the same as the ones on my Robin uniform except…

"Where's the computer?"

"The what?"

"The holocomputer? You know, the thing I use to pull up mission schematics, building plans, GPS locations, communicate with the League, look up information in an emergency, or hack into security systems?"

"You won't need one."

"But what if I need to hack something?"

"Then that will be a mission-specific tool that you will receive prior to said mission. Otherwise, you will be staying off the grid, or you will hack the computer systems manually."

Is he serious?!

I open my mouth, but he shoots me a warning and my mouth shuts itself. Stupid no-computer gloves. Slade pulls something new out of the case. It looks like a long strip with other strips and sections of fabric attached, with clips attached at random. He hands it to me and my mouth goes dry. It's a drop leg holster.

"You'll be equipped with two holsters, along with additional compartments for knives and other blades. The bo staff is stored at the back of the holster belt. You'll need to try it all on to make sure it fits."

"Now? Like, right now?"

Slade nods, pushing everything towards me. My hands ball into fists and my pulse races, but I reach forwards and grab the uniform off the table. He doesn't say anything as I head for the door, so I cross the hall to my room and close the door behind me. The uniform is a little loose, but it's closer than I thought I would be. The sleeves are a little too long, and the extra material bunches around the waist. But the chest pad is actually not that constricting, and the extra armor makes me feel a little more secure. The padding along the arms will make hand-to-hand combat a lot less painful.

I'm not ready to look at the mirror yet, so I take a breath.

"It's not that bad," I say out loud to convince myself. It doesn't work.

I open the door to go back to the office, but Slade is waiting outside with a pair of black combat boots and the holsters. Ignoring the holsters, I pull the boots on and lace them up slowly. They fit perfectly… and they also look really cool. Not that I'm ever going to tell Slade that. But then I'm done putting the boots on and the holster is sitting on the ground and Slade is still waiting.

I tug on the gloves, pretending to readjust them. There's a loud sigh.

"Just put it on or I will put it on for you." Slade threatens impatiently.

Nope! No way! That is not happening!

I clip the belt around my waist and start adjusting straps, not letting myself think about what I'm doing until I tighten the second holster around my right thigh. There's full length mirror on the wall next to the bathroom door. I turn towards it slowly. The orange pops against the black, and my heart misses a beat when I see Deathstroke in the mirror.

But it's just me.

Slade's hand grabs my shoulder while his other hand presses something over my eyes. I let out a yell but he lets go immediately, and then I realize he just put a mask on my face. I inhale through my nose, trying to find the courage to open my eyes. When I do, I can't tear them away. The person in the mirror looks evil, just like all of the villains and assassins I've spent my life fighting against. If the Team saw me now, they'd shoot first and ask questions later.

Slade puts his hand on my shoulder again, but this time, his grip is gentle but firm.

"Renegade."


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I've got horrible writer's block, my abuela just died and my life is a mess, so I figured why not just dump the entire rest of this story on AO3 while I'm stuck. 
> 
> Enjoy.

* * *

Friday, September 18th, 2012

Harris Auto Repair, somewhere in Gotham

Dick Grayson

* * *

When I pull to a stop, I've made up my mind. I need answers. Everything I'm doing is to be a better hero, to be a better fighter so I can keep my teammates and the people we're trying to protect safe. That's why I'm doing this. But it's really hard to remember that when all I can think about is the fact that Slade just killed someone and walked away clean.

I knew Slade was a mercenary from the beginning, but that's not… there's a difference between cold-blooded murder and eliminating someone who's an active danger to society. Slade said he only takes contracts that are justified, like violent gang leaders and terrorist cells or illegal militia groups. Batman targets those same criminals, but he'll never cross that line and neither will I. It makes me sick to think about it and I feel dirty keeping what I know secret when every night, Batman and I track down people like Slade and bring them to justice. I'm not stupid though. I can't tell anyone and I won't. Slade has risked so much for me and I owe him too much.

I know I can't fit Batman's beliefs into what he does but I just… I need to know why he took the last contract.

I climb off my bike and lean it against the wall. The garage is empty except for Mark hammering dents out of the frame of a beat-up Dodge Charger. He looks up when I walk by, waving his hammer once in greeting. I nod back before taking a deep breath and walking through the open door of Slade's office and closing it behind me.

For the first time, Slade isn't waiting in there for me.

I look around, but the room is empty, and the giant desktop computer is powered down. The files strewn over the desk are all closed, and there's no messages waiting for me on a piece of paper. My heart pounds from the relief of delaying the confrontation, but it's mixing with even more anxiety when it hits me that I have no idea what I'm supposed to do. I unlock the supply closet door to reveal the hidden staircase.

Carefully, I lock the door behind me and make my way down the stairs, pausing to punch in the security code to unlock the real door to the base. Once I get inside, I stop. The hallways always look exactly the same and I can never remember which doors actually lead to the main hall and which ones are just decoys that lead you back in a circle or don't even open at all. It takes an embarrassingly long time to get to Slade's real office, and when I do, it's like walking into the middle of a war zone.

Papers and stacks of files are everywhere and quickly thrown-up blueprints line the walls. Slade is in full uniform minus the mask and arsenal, pulling equipment from cabinets and drawers and dropping it unceremoniously into a set of black duffel bags on his desk.

"Good. You're here. We need to go."

"What?"

Go where? What's he talking about?

"One of my government contacts intercepted a message from the National Intelligence Department of Pokolistan to a splinter cell in New York. They want to get their hands on a sonic mesh prototype the National Science Foundation has been developing in collaboration with HEMI."

"HEMI? What is that?"

"It's a research institute located on the Johns Hopkins campus in Baltimore." He answers impatiently, digging a long-range scope out of the bag to make room for a large black-box. The scope disappears into the other bag. "HEMI loaned a research team to the NSF facility in Scarsdale, where they've been developing the prototype. My contact suspects that the Pokolistanis will try to steal the device tonight."

Slade practically throws a binder at me from across the room. I bring my hand up in time to catch it, caught off-guard by the sudden urgency. I flip through it, looking at page after page of building schematics and pictures of the NSF facility from the outside and the interior. Halfway through, the plans become profiles on the researchers involved with the project, complete with pictures and detailed bios.

"Our job is to make sure they don't get their hands on it, and to protect any of the scientists who may get in the way."

"Why would you they hire you to do that?" I ask. "Why not just have the cops on high alert?"

"Officially, the United States and Pokolistan are allies. Unofficially, as a former Soviet state, Pokolistan's interests align much more closely with that of Russia and its allies. If this group is caught and brought to media attention, the Pokolistani government will deny any ties, but it will push them farther towards our nation's enemies. If we capture the enemy agents, my clients will quietly deliver them back to their motherland and the matter can be dealt with between agencies. And restitutions can be made in the form of sanctions that will not destroy the remaining goodwill between our two countries."

"Oh."

"There are teams on stand-by waiting to respond, but they don't have the firepower necessary to respond to a full strike force. My contact received confirmation three minutes ago that they're moving on the facility tonight. Our presence might not be necessary, but in the worst-case scenario, we'll be acting alone until reinforcements arrive."

It's not the highest-stakes I've ever dealt with, but it sounds pretty serious.

"I've been analyzing the lab members' routines. At the end of every work day, the prototype is stored in a lockbox in the facility's basement storage center, and only the project leaders know the serial number. Anyone trying to steal the device will either need to target one of the five project managers, or go after the device before it is returned to storage. Unfortunately for the NSF, there is a large window for both options."

Slade takes the file from me and opens it to a new page.

"Dr. Palmer is the chief engineer on loan from HEMI. He has an extreme work ethic and usually remains in the lab long after his colleagues have gone home. There is a period from 9 to 11pm where the good doctor is alone, and he's a perfect unsuspecting target. The good news is that if the prototype can be discretely returned to storage and the project managers are out of reach, the Pokolistanis will lose their window."

"And the bad news?"

Slade looms over me, putting his hands on my shoulders. "There are no acceptable losses tonight. The Pokolistanis cannot be allowed to take the device. And I'm sure I don't need to tell you to keep the scientists safe."

I take a half-step back, nodding once I have room to breathe.

"You'll find your uniform and gear on your bed. Get changed. We leave in five."

It takes just under an hour to get from Gotham to Scarsdale, New York. The radio plays audio from a series of bugs Slade's contact managed to plant, and the entire ride is narrated by poor-quality Pokolistani chatter. It sounds a lot like a mix of Bulgarian accents speaking Russian and I can't follow a word of it. Instead, I flip through the binder, trying to figure out the building's layout and our best evacuation routes.

The ride passes in a blur, and I try to think about how similar this is to the team's mission to protect Dr. Rockette from the League of Shadows. Except that the League might already have Dr. Rockette and we have to stall for time until backup gets there. And instead of the Team, it's Slade. And I'm not Robin. I'm Renegade. I don't like the name that much, but Slade didn't ask my opinion and I can't think of anything better.

My hands are shaking and I take a deep breath, trying to distract myself again but nothing works for long. This is a real mission with Slade. Lives are on the line if I mess up.

We're only two minutes out from the facility when the bugged audio gets quiet and it turns into one guy giving short, regular updates. I think. Slade glowers and presses harder on the gas.

"They're inside. Beginning sweeps of the first-floor laboratories, but they've confirmed Palmer is in the building. Front and back exits have been compromised."

"What do we do?"

"There's no time for niceties. We go in through entry point five, get Palmer and the device to the basement, then we deal with the targets. If they intercept us, your job is to keep them busy. We cannot risk anything happening to the device-"

"Or the scientists." I interrupt. Slade glares at me and my stomach drops. "Sorry."

"So, I will keep them both out of harm's way. Whatever you have to do, do not let the targets get past you. Understood, Renegade?"

My heart misses a beat.

Renegade. Not Robin. That's never going to stop being weird.

"Understood."

The second the car pulls to a stop at the edge of the parking lot, Slade grabs his gear out of the trunk, pulls his mask down over his face and disappears into the darkness.

My heart pounds and I take a deep breath, holding it for six counts. We're here to keep people safe and prevent an international incident. I can do this. Bo staff in the back holster, projectiles loaded into pockets, mask over face.

There's a ring of black vans parked in a semi-circle around the loading zone, and an assortment of other cars around the lot that are definitely out of place. If they don't already know we're here, they'll be onto us soon. Lucky for me, I'm pretty good with shadows.

* * *

"Dr. Palmer." Slade says.

The scientist jumps a foot in the air and whips around, staring at us with an expression that's half shock and half terror.

"Who the hell are you?!" He shouts. I wince. Slade went in fully armed and I wouldn't want to be snuck up on by a guy with a massive gun either.

"I'm very sorry we have to meet under these circumstances, but you need to do as I say." Slade says. "Your life is in danger."

"I can see that!" Dr. Palmer snaps, face turning bright red. "What do you want?"

"Dr. Palmer, I was hired by an interested party in the United States' Army to ensure that both the anti-surveillance device and the technicians working on it stayed safe. I'm sorry to have alarmed you, but you will be in far greater danger if you don't evacuate right now."

"Bullshit." Dr. Palmer snaps. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Then you will make it very easy for the squad of NIDP agents that just infiltrated the building to steal government property and abduct you in the process."

"What? NIDP like… like Pokolistan?"

"Correct. Dr. Palmer, we need to get moving."

"There's other people in the building." Dr. Palmer doesn't budge. "Cleaning staff are on the third floor by now, and the night shift is in the main office."

"We'll evacuate anyone we come across, but this device is their priority. We need to go, now."

Everything happens at once. I see a flicker of red light over Slade's chest. He shouts, "Get down!" and I launch myself behind a counter. Slade grabs Dr. Palmer and pulls him down, covering him as gunfire erupts over our heads.

Glass explodes and chunks of plaster get ripped from the wall and the workshop is suddenly a warzone.

There's shouting, and suddenly a team of heavily armed agents dressed head to toe in black tactical gear storm the room. Five just came in through the main door, there's another five by the side door and at least three outside the windows judging by the spray of gunfire and pattern of broken glass. My new bo staff is in my hands before I can think about it.

I look back at Slade, who has one arm keeping Dr. Palmer down and the other reaching for a smoke grenade. He nods at me.

Alright then. Guess I get to deal with all of the enemy agents by myself. Fun.

Slade throws the smoke grenade and I spring out from behind the table amid a cloud of gas. I flip in midair, pressing the latch to extend my bo staff to full length and the ends crackle with electricity.

Flashlight beams shine through the cloud of smoke but it's too dense to see more than a few inches and none of the agents see me until my feet slam onto the shoulders of the guy at the front of their five-point formation. He goes down hard, helmet slamming against the ground and I hear shouts of alarm from the other four.

One slash with my bo staff hits right where the helmet meets the chest armor, electrified end meeting collarbone. He shouts as electricity shoots through him before dropping to the ground. Another strike hits the guy across from him with the other end.

Two beams of light find my chest but I'm already in the air again, and their bullets rip through the space where I was a second ago. I hear grunts of pain as projectiles hit bulletproof armor with twenty-five thousand pounds per square inch of force. The hit knocks them back and I take advantage while they're off guard.

My bo staff slashes up, knocking the helmet off the guy on my right and I follow with an elbow strike that knocks him down. My leg whips around in a spinning kick to nail the other guy in the head.

Eight seconds. All five are down, and they're not getting back up. That's better than in Bialya.

The cloud of smoke is just starting to dissipate but it feels like it's sticking in my throat. I fight back the urge to cough, because if I give away my position there's another eight heavily armed NIDP agents in the room. I have about five seconds to get across the room before they know where I am, but they might open fire any second.

I reach for a birdarang but my hand comes up empty.

Shit. No utility belt. No cape either. If they start shooting, I'm wide open.

And now I'm just standing here losing time.

I need another distraction before I can risk moving. There are metal cabinets on either side of the doorway that stand about six feet tall. I slam my staff against the metal surface as hard as I can and take two hard steps in the other direction.

The metal crashes into the cabinet and makes a sound like a bomb going off, and the Pokolistanis answer with gunfire. I vault up to the top of the cabinets on the other side and the sound of my feet landing is covered by the still-ringing metal and spray of gunfire. Plus, the smoke is still thick up here and it should be enough to cover me. I sprint across the room on top of the cabinets, out of view of the agents. Through the ringing in my ears, I can hear shouting, both from the Pokolistani agents and Dr. Palmer.

I flip down, kicking one of the agents in the head and as soon as I land, I sprint between two more. I extend my bo staff again and the electricity hits both of them at once.

Gunfire explodes in my ears and pressure slams against my chest and my right bicep burns. I stumble backwards, years of Bat-paranoia pulling me behind a workbench for cover before I realize what happened. I look down and see a silver piece embedded in my chest plate and there's a long scratch along my right arm. Two bullets. I have to be more careful.

I grab a projectile from my pocket and when the agent follows me around the bench, I throw it. The metal lodges itself in his right hand and he grunts, dropping the barrel of his gun. I swing through with my bo staff, knocking the weapon clean out of his hands.

I dodge a punch to the face and answer with a kick at his chest. My foot makes contact but he squares his stance and his body armor absorbs the blow. He grabs my leg in a tight lock and throws me, ripping the staff out of my hands. I pull my legs in and roll backwards when I land.

He charges forwards, slashing the staff across my body. I dive under it, landing behind him and as he turns, I throw one leg between his feet and grab him in a lock with one arm around his neck and the other looping under his right armpit. I use his momentum to throw him, slamming him down against the floor. Dropping to one knee, I grab four of the pressure points on his face and neck and push until he goes limp and the heaving breaths turn to a steady, unconscious rhythm.

Behind me, Slade brushes off his hands. The last agent is out cold and Dr. Palmer pushes the guy's head with his foot to get a better look at his face. He doesn't look like a civilian who was just attacked by a squad of foreign intelligence agents. He looks like someone who's used to being in the line of fire.

I frown.

There was nothing Slade's file about him being ex-military, so either he's in shock or there's something weird about him because he is way too calm right now.

"They're alive," Slade's voice is all business. "There's three more outside the window, and at least another two teams attempting to secure the building. Expect four more teams at the most, not counting surveillance around the building."

He pulls a pack of zipties out of some pouch or pocket and throws half of them to me.

"Secure them all. We want them alive and in one piece. Palmer, don't move."

Dr. Palmer doesn't look happy about it, but he grabs the case by the handles and scans the room for any more threats. Together, it only takes me and Slade a few minutes to take care of all the agents.

"We need to draw the rest of them out. Make them think they still have a shot at the device that justifies sending the full team in."

"Or we can call for help. As a government building, there's a direct line to the Justice League in the main office. While you're drawing them out, I'll go." Dr. Palmer says. His voice sounds strained; not that I blame him, but something still just feels wrong about this.

"Absolutely not. You're not leaving my sight, Dr. Palmer. If anything happens to you, I lose out on a very large paycheck and I will not be pleased if that happens. Besides, the entire building is in a dead-zone. No electronic signals can get in or out." He takes stock of the room and looks back at Dr. Palmer. "How many people are on this floor right now?"

He shakes his head. "Berger and Tisch are the only other labs on the floor, and they're all out by seven. Other than that, the cleaning crews start on the top floor and work down. They won't get to this floor until eleven-thirty at the earliest. Anyone else is in the main office on the ground floor." He looks at Slade evenly. "Are they still alive?"

"The hostiles came in through the loading dock in the back and came straight up. As long as we give them a target, everyone else is low priority. We'll go down the-"

Dr. Palmer's head snaps up. "Aakshi! She's a post-doc in Ron's group! She's been staying late across the hall."

"Renegade." Slade orders, and I'm sprinting out the door. The hallway is wide open, but it's clear of any NIDP agents. I run down the hall, turning left at the branch to Dr. Berger's lab just like the blueprints said. The main corridor lights are on but all the doors are closed and dark except for room 416. The lock has been forced open already and I push my way inside.

A tall Indian woman with dark blue glasses and a long ponytail looks up. The worktop in front of her is littered with metal scraps and welding gear, but there's nothing in front of her and she's not wearing any of the protective gear scattered around the lab.

"Who are you?" She demands. She sounds angry, not scared or surprised but she doesn't move from behind the lab bench.

"Aakshi, Dr. Palmer sent me to find you. There are foreign agents trying to kill you. I'm here to get you out."

Her eyes widen at Dr. Palmer's name, but she still makes no effort to move.

"This is private property. You are trespassing." Her voice is full of irritation, but her eyes point down beneath the bench. I tilt my head and point at the floor in front of her. She holds up two fingers before she gestures to her other side and taps the bench lightly. "Get out."

I knew it. There're two hostiles in the room; one beneath the bench and the other one somewhere to my right. Drawing fire is the best bet to keep her safe right now.

I stride into the room, getting close enough that I'll be able to jump over the lab bench in two steps. "I'm not leaving unless you come with me."

Aakshi's eyes widen and I hear one set of footsteps.

"Then you won't be leaving," a man says in heavily accented English. I don't need to turn around to know that he's got a gun pointed at me. There's still no sign of his partner and I need to know where he is before I risk anything.

"You're helping them?!" I demand, glaring at her and pretending to ignore the guy behind me.

"No!" She exclaims in shock.

"Quiet! You, how many did you come with?" The agent growls.

No good. I have to try again.

"Palmer wouldn't let us evac without you, and you're working with them?! We were clear to go and…"

"I'm not!" She shouts back.

"He said quiet!" The other agent unfolds himself from his hiding spot, brandishing his gun. Aakshi squeaks, stepping back. I slam my elbow backwards, using my full momentum to nail the first agent with an elbow strike to the throat. A roundhouse kick to the temple drops him to the floor. I vault over the bench, bo staff extended and drive the electrified end into the other agent. He twitches as he goes down.

"Holy shit!" Aakshi stares at me.

"Let's go."

"Yeah. Okay."

* * *

"Thank god," Dr. Palmer says, grabbing Aakshi in a quick hug. "Are you okay?"

"Ray, what the hell is going on here?!"

"Any trouble?" Slade asks me.

"Two. There's a lot more of them, but I don't know how many or where. This hallway is clear though."

"No! What's going on?!" Aakshi demands, but she keeps her voice low. "Who are they?"

She points at me and Slade. Dr. Palmer opens his mouth to answer but changes his mind and shuts it without saying anything. Slade steps forward and I can tell he's impressed when Aakshi holds her ground.

"We're independent contractors hired by the US government. There are foreign agents attempting to steal Dr. Palmer's prototype and abduct any project members that may be useful. My job is to make sure that doesn't happen."

Aakshi whips around to stare at Dr. Palmer. "What the hell are you working on? Your project is short-range soundwave depletion."

"For counter-intelligence." Dr. Palmer admits.

"So, we're trapped in the building with these two versus however many people trying to kill the rest of us because the government has you playing Q?"

"Dr. Girish." Slade interrupts. "I am very good at my job. You are going to make it out of this in one piece."

"And what about everyone else in the building?" She shoots back. "These men are armed and trigger happy. How are you going to keep everyone safe?"

"By dealing with the threat as efficiently as possible."

"How? Do you know how many of them are in the building? Where they are?"

"It would be really helpful if I had a computer right now," I hiss, shooting a glare at Slade. If I had my holocomputer, I'd already have access to the building's security feeds. Even if the internet is being blocked, the building's intranet works independently of outgoing signals; all I need is a computer connected to the building's system.

"By all means," Slade pushes me towards the computer on the ground behind Dr. Palmer's workspace. It must have fallen in the chaos, but only the monitor is cracked. After a few seconds, I've put it back together and managed to access the building intranet through an old cable sticking out of the wall. Most places don't even have them anymore, so that's really lucky.

"You're not going to be able to get anything off that!" Dr. Palmer tries to protest. "Any sensitive material is password protected and encrypted. Only the terminals in the main office can access security systems."

I ignore him and keep typing, winding around backdoors and pushing through firewalls that any of Batman's programs would have open in seconds.

"I've got eyes on them." I tell Slade two minutes later, before pointing up at the 360 degree security camera mounted on the ceiling. "Us too."

"How did you do that?" Dr. Palmer demands.

"Put us on a loop." Slade orders. It's a pretty new system, so most of the updated video controls are enabled and it only takes a few commands before anyone watching our security feed will only see us standing around the computer.

Slade directs me through various video feeds, and to both of the scientists' relief, the custodial staff is on the sixth floor and are working undisturbed. But there's another team of agents standing guard in front of the main office, with the workers all locked inside.

More teams comb the lower hallways, and all the exit points are covered too.

"We have a clear shot down to the basement. Hallways and elevators are wide open." I report.

"It's a trap. They'll ambush us when we move the device."

"What do we do?"

"We take the device down to storage and let them ambush us."

"What?!" I turn.

"They're expecting us to go down, so the device will remain upstairs. We'll load the container with a decoy. Palmer, do any of the cabinets in here lock?"

Dr. Palmer nods. "All the flammables cabinets and chem hoods lock. They're mostly empty, we just have IPA to clean the RF-melter and compressed butane refills for the torches."

I blink at the jargon but Dr. Girish is already pulling huge brown jugs out from the cupboard and moving them to a tall yellow cabinet on the other side of the room. I stand guard while they move all the bottles of flammable chemicals and replace it with the prototype before filling the empty lock-box with scrap metal. It's heavy enough that if we lose the box, the Pokolistanis won't realize it's fake until they open it.

As soon as Dr. Palmer clicks the lock into place, Slade nods.

"Now we go down."

It's a short elevator ride to the basement, but it's the longest minute of my life. I spend the whole-time watching Slade, looking for some clue that he's got a plan besides "spring the trap."

When the doors open, Slade is out first.

"Clear." He says. Palmer and Girish are out next, pushing the cart with the decoy between them. Slade holds up a fist and I hit the elevator stop button, causing the doors to freeze halfway closed. Anyone else who comes downstairs will have to come through the staircase and that gives us some control over access points. Worst case, we can retreat to the elevator and strategically run away.

The scientists lead us to the entrance to the storage block, and the door should be protected by an eight-digit passcode with thumbprint recognition. Instead, the locks are disengaged and the door is already open. Slade goes in first, but it's still quiet.

They wheel the cart through next, and I take a deep breath before following inside.

* * *

When I open my eyes, I'm in lying on a bed in a small, dark room. My head hurts like it's been stabbed by a hundred small knives and it takes me a painful thirty seconds to realize that I'm in my room in the Haunt.

Then my memory catches up.

The scientists!

I bolt up, knocking my pillow and sheets to the ground I scramble off the bed, running for the light switch. I turn them on and wince when the sudden brightness sends a spike of pain through my head. Looking down, I realize I'm in a pair of shorts and a gray t-shirt that I left here a couple weeks ago. Nothing's bleeding or broken, but my body hurts like I took on fifteen guys at once, and my head feels like someone dropped the Batmobile on it.

A quick search of the room reveals there's no note from Slade anywhere, no instructions of any kind. I have to find him if I want any answers. I throw open the door and stop dead.

The hallway is dark. I swallow, heart beating even faster. The lights in the hallway are always on. Always.

The office door isn't locked, but it's empty and the lights are off. It looks neater than it did, but there's still blueprints on the walls and folders on the desks that means it really happened. I head back to the hallway and try the kitchen, the dining room, and the gym, but it's all empty.

I'm not panicking. I'm not.

I might be about to start panicking when I see a light reflected off the gym's mirrored wall. Turning around, I follow the light out of the gym, through a door to another hallway, and around a corner. There's a crack in the wall with light coming out of it. When I get closer, I realize it's a hidden door disguised to look like part of the wall.

Taking a deep breath, I push it open. My stomach drops and I feel nauseous.

It's an armory. It looks like an advertisement for a gun shop in the South. Every wall and shelf is piled with weapons, and there are cabinets off to the far side of the room I don't even want to think about.

Slade is sitting at a table against the wall with a pile of disassembled guns in front of him. He looks up when I come in, setting down the metal casing in his hands.

"Good, you're awake." He says, sounding relieved.

"What happened?"

"Not here." He stands up, nodding his head at the door. I follow him back to the kitchen where he pushes a bottle of water at me. "You need to rehydrate."

"What happened?" I repeat, playing with the cap.

"What do you remember?"

I frown.

"We got off the elevator with the scientists and the decoy and we were about to go inside the storage facility. Then I woke up. What happened? Is everyone okay?"

Slade sighs, sitting down heavily in the chair across from me.

"There was one casualty."

"What? Who?!"

"Dr. Palmer was… dragged out by the agents."

My mouth drops open in horror. "He's dead?"

"No, he's okay. I caught up to them in time, but…" He sighs again, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Richard. I was too far away to reach them. Shooting the agent was the only way to save Palmer's life, and the ambulance didn't get there in time."

I lean back, stomach churning with relief and sadness. Protecting the civilians is the most important thing. The agent was trying to kill an innocent man. Slade was doing his job.

"I'm sorry. I wish there had been another way, but Palmer would been killed if I hadn't."

"But… he's safe?"

Slade nods solemnly. "Palmer and Girish are both fine, if a little shaken. Everyone else in the building was unharmed. You kept her safe while I went after Palmer, and by the time I got back you'd taken a blow to the head. She says you saved her life."

I let out a shaky breath, letting my head rest against the table.

"Otherwise, the mission was a success. The Pokolistani agents were taken into custody by the CIA, and suitable arrangements were made for the deceased agent. Dr. Palmer and his group are also being relocated to another facility with better security."

I stare at the wall, trying to sort through it all but my head hurts so badly I can barely think. The important thing is that the scientists are safe and we helped stop an international incident. We won this fight.

But I just feel sick.

"You need to sleep. You might be concussed, and straining yourself right now is the last thing you need."

Sleep. Okay. I can do that.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Minor Character Death, Gore

Ray Palmer

Friday, September 18th, 2012

deBroglie Institute for Dynamic Engineering, Scarsdale, New York

* * *

"Working late again? Thought you had a hot date tonight."

"Turns out, Jean's a little crazy even for me, Carol." Ray laughed. He glanced up from the prototype sonic mesh to check his computer screen. Even without seeing the Ferris Industries logo on the wall, Carol's messy workspace would have told him that he wasn't the only one pulling a late night at the lab.

"And here I thought crazy was your type, All-Night-and-Day Ray."

"Really? You just had to bring that up? College was a looooong time ago."

His friend laughed and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"What about you? Thought you and Hal were hitting the town." Ray asked.

Carol rolled her eyes. "Hal said something about a giant space cockroach and then blasted off into the galaxy unknown. Between the two of us, I'd so much rather be in the machine shop."

Ray held up his soldering iron in solidarity.

"Here's to late nights."

"Here's to sending the interns and techs home so they don't call the union about overtime." She grinned back.

"How's that ultralight paneling coming?" Ray asked, positioning the magnifying glass to get a better angle to solder a particularly tricky joint.

"We gave up on the carbon-aluminum weave. It gave me the mass I wanted, but there was just too much drag. I can't waste twenty percent of my pilots' fuel just to maintain speed."

"Just when you think you solved one problem, there's always a dozen more." Ray agreed.

"One sec, this is going to be loud." Carol said, and Ray turned the volume down out of habit. He could still hear the earsplitting screech of heavy machinery crushing a piece of metal. After a few seconds, Carol waved at him and he turned the volume back up.

"All done." She sat back at her desk, hefting a newly compressed chunk of metal. "That's the part I hate about my job. We've been working on this weave for three years and now we just have to scrap it and start over. Ugh! We'll look for other places to use it, but I really thought it was going to work."

"At least you're the one who gets to call it. When I worked in industry, I spent eighteen months working on a tachyon particle emitter. My boss calls me up one day, says the board is moving in a new direction and the project is cancelled. Gone, just like that." Ray snapped his fingers.

"That's the problem with R&D. You gotta have the funding for it and getting funding is just..." Carol winced. Ray nodded sympathetically.

"Grant season coming up?"

"When is it not? My top team is working on a batch of proposals, but there's a few I'm overseeing myself. I possibly shouldn't tell you this, but we have a project in the works for a new fuel-injection system for the VF-616 engine. Complete redesign that, fingers crossed, could give us a ridiculous increase in terms of fuel efficiency."

"That's great! I remember when you were talking about the problems with the current version. I take it you're the one writing the grant?"

"I haven't finished the proposal yet. We've still got a few weeks, but I'm pretty confident we'll get the funding. I spoke to Senator Donovan at a conference in Tulsa last month and he was actually so enthusiastic about the project. He's been pushing more funding towards research grants since his appointment to the Appropriations Committee."

"Nice to see the government spending on something besides defense."

"Says the guy working on a top-secret project for the government as we speak."

Ray laughed. "I don't have the clearance to be working on anything like that anymore. We just got lucky when the NSF reached out."

"Sure." Carol winked. "And none of my test pilots are reporting to some higher-up that would have to kill me if I ever heard their name."

"Seriously?"

"Of course not. This isn't the Cold Wa-"

The video cut out for a second, but returned a second later.

"Sorry, I lost you for a second there. The wifi's been spotty all day." Ray apologized.

"Don't worry. It wasn't anything important." Carol grinned. Her stomach let out a growl loud enough for Ray to hear. "God, I would kill for some takeout right now."

"Is anything even open this late?"

"Closest thing would take an hour to get here. Ugh, I would pay all the money in the world for some sweet-and-sour chicken right this second."

Ray's stomach let out a rumble in response.

"You're going to make me hungry." He joked.

"Kung pao chicken."

"Carol!"

"Fried rice with vegetables."

"You're the worst."

"Egg rolls with dipping sauce."

"Beef lo mein." Ray gave in.

"Mu shu pork."

"That's not Kosher." Ray shook his head.

"Wonton soup?"

"Now you're talking."

"Are you working tomorrow night? You should pop over, I'll take you to this awesome hole-in-the-wall in Oakland."

"Do you know how much a plane ticket from Scarsdale to Oakland is?"

"So, save yourself the ticket. Or if you'd prefer, I can have Hal fly you."

"I'll see how much I can get done tonight. Not all of us can be the CEO of an aircraft company who's dating a test pilot."

"You're really committed to that cover, aren't you? Hal doesn't care anywhere near as much who knows."

"Well, as much as I respect Hal, I'm not dating my boss. There's no guarantee of job security if I get a little too talkative about my side job."

Carol snorted.

"Like they'd ever fire you. You could do this project by yourself in your basement if-"

The image stalled, but this time the screen turned gray and informed him the connectivity had been lost.

"Stupid wifi router," Ray mumbled.

Setting down his solder and flux, he pulled out his phone.

"Sorry I lost you. I'll text tomorrow about dinner if it'll work."

He hit send, but the message timed out. He tried switching to cellular data, but his phone still didn't have any signal. Ray groaned, but set it aside. He'd call tech support tomorrow if the wifi still wasn't working but there was no point dealing with it tonight. He picked up the soldering iron again and kept working on the mid-section of the paneling. Attaching the mesh to the base was the easiest part of the project, but also the most time-consuming. It didn't require a lot of attention to detail and after about fifteen minutes of working in silence, Ray gave up.

The thought of beef lo mein with egg rolls was driving him crazy and listening to the air conditioning unit wasn't particularly interesting. Time to call it a night.

Ray set down his tools and pulled the storage case from under the work table. He carefully shoved the prototype into its box, making sure that there wasn't too much pressure on any of the newly-soldered joints. The sections of the base that hadn't been attached yet went into a separate compartment, and then everything was sealed. Following NSF protocol, he slid a combination lock through the latch and turned the dial to reset it.

It usually took a lot of maneuvering to get the case loaded onto the cart so it could be brought into the basement for storage but Ray was in the habit of cheating. It was a job for a bigger guy, which was lucky because the Atom could be a bigger guy.

"Dr. Palmer." A man said from directly behind him.

Ray jumped, whipping around while thanking G-d that he hadn't just blown his secret identity in front of the intruder. His heart pounded wildly at the sight of a man wearing black-and-orange armor… and the very large gun in his hands. There was a similarly dressed man standing behind him, but he was unarmed and so much smaller that Ray's instincts dismissed him to focus on the much bigger threat.

"Who the hell are you?!" Ray shouted.

"I'm very sorry we have to meet under these circumstances, but you need to do as I say." The armed intruder said. "Your life is in danger."

"I can see that!" Ray snapped, hands tightening into fists. He took a second to notice that the man's gun was carefully aimed at the ground, fingers far from the trigger. That didn't make him a whole lot better, but it did give him a little more time to size up the situation. "What do you want?"

"Dr. Palmer, I was hired by an interested party in the United States' Army to ensure that both the anti-surveillance device and the technicians working on it stayed safe. I'm sorry to have alarmed you, but you will be in far greater danger if you don't evacuate right now."

Two possibilities from that. Either the man was lying and this was a very strange kidnapping slash theft, or the man was telling the truth and the situation was about to get a whole lot messier. Either way…

"Bullshit. I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Then you will make it very easy for the squad of NIDP agents that just infiltrated the building to steal government property and abduct you in the process."

"What? NIDP like… like Pokolistan?" Ray frowned, mostly because it was scarily probable. He was still convinced this was a trap, but the NIDP was one of the obscure foreign intelligence agencies that had led his military contracts to insist on complete secrecy from everyone involved in the project. It didn't necessarily mean anything other than the fact that the intruder had done his homework, but if it was true, then this was a job for the Atom.

"Correct. Dr. Palmer, we need to get moving before they find you."

"There's other people in the building. Cleaning staff are on the third floor by now, and the night shift is in the main office."

"We'll evacuate anyone we come across, but this device is their priority. We need to go, now."

Ray shook his head. He'd been in the business long enough to figure out that the man in front of him was extremely dangerous and there was no way he was going to follow him blindly and undefended into a hostile situation. Before he could insist that they evacuate the rest of the building so he could slip away and transform, all hell broke loose.

"Get down!" The larger man shouted, grabbing Ray by the shoulders and ramming him into the ground behind the workbench. The sound of shattering glass exploded around them, accompanied by a spray of gunfire. Ray couldn't see around the bench but he heard the shouts and heavy footsteps as a full team of hostiles burst into the lab. By the pattern of gunfire, Ray counted at least three snipers outside the windows. His self-appointed "protector" had him pinned between the wall and the bench with his body shielding Ray from any of the new intruders, and Ray sourly conceded the fact that it was very good defensive positioning.

There was no sign of the smaller man, but before Ray could wonder what happened, there was a hiss as the room filled with dense smoke. A string of curses, shouts, electrified buzzing, and wet thumps emerged from the darkness for a few seconds, along with more gunfire.

"Don't move," the man standing over him ordered, before unfolding himself out of a crouch to look around the side of the bench. Ray saw his chance to slip out of the room and transform but he'd barely taken three steps before there was a deafening crash from the far side of the room. He stumbled mid-step before he was dragged backwards. He spun with the motion, bringing up his fist to punch his attacker, but it was just the Black-and-Orange man pulling him back behind the bench.

"What the hell are you doing?!" He hissed, shoving him down so he was fully out of the line of fire. "Stay put!"

There was more gunfire and the man swore, disappearing again. Ray touched his stomach, fingers closing over the size manipulation belt at his waist. He could shrink down right now and get himself clear, but there was no way to do it without blowing his cover. The man was paying too much attention, he'd put two and two together if Ray just vanished. Especially if the Atom appeared on-scene immediately afterwards.

Long before he'd accepted this contract, Ray had resolved to make sure the government never got their hands on his shrinking tech. If the man had really been hired to protect him, he'd report to one of Ray's military contacts and it wouldn't be long before they'd be insisting on a "collaboration." Even though it made his skin crawl to stay crouched behind the bench while other people fought the threat, it wasn't worth the risk.

There was a final loud thump, then silence punctuated by heavy breathing. Ray stood up slowly, moving to where the man was standing over an unconscious agent dressed from head to toe in black. Using his foot, he pushed the agents head to the side to get a better look at his face.

It matched most of the profiles he'd seen of Pokolistani features, and he admitted that it was looking more likely that the intruder had been telling the truth.

Ray looked up to see the shorter man frowning at him. He stood in the middle of a pile of bodies, and Ray counted nine men, all at least twice his size, lying unconscious while he was barely winded. Ray couldn't hide his surprise, realizing that he'd miscalculated badly. The man would have been a short eighteen-year-old, if he was even that old, but he was just as dangerous as his partner. Ray moved him up several places in his danger estimation while the taller man said, "They're alive. There's three more outside the window, and at least another two teams attempting to secure the building. Expect four more teams at the most, not counting surveillance around the building. Secure them all. We want them alive and in one piece."

The man didn't even turn to look before ordering, "Palmer! Don't move."

Rather than argue, Ray turned to grab the handles of the storage case. The mesh was still sitting innocuously on the bench, untouched by the disaster of a lab around them. Ray flinched at the thought of replacing the equipment but that was quite literally the last of his worries. He was done playing around, and if he couldn't punch someone soon then he was going to lose whatever calm he'd managed to hang on to.

Four teams of five to eight was too many for two people to handle alone, no matter how dangerous either of them were. There were too many lives at risk if one of those heavily armed teams decided to take the civilians in the building hostage. They needed backup, whether from the Atom or from the Justice League, and they needed it fast.

"We need to draw the rest of them out. Make them think they still have a shot at the device that justifies sending the full team in."

"Or we can call for help." Ray countered. "As a government building, there's a direct line to the Justice League in the main office. While you're drawing them out, I'll go."

"Absolutely not. You're not leaving my sight, Dr. Palmer. If anything happens to you, I lose out on a very large paycheck and I will not be pleased if that happens. Besides, the entire building is in a dead-zone. No electronic signals can get in or out." The man glanced at the door before looking back at Ray. "How many people are on this floor right now?"

"Nobody. Berger and Tisch are the only other labs on the floor and they're all out by seven. Other than that, the cleaning crews start on the top floor and work down. They won't get to this floor until eleven-thirty at the earliest. Anyone else is in the main office on the ground floor."

The man nodded, but before he could answer, Ray demanded, "The other people in the building, are they still alive?"

"The hostiles came in through the loading dock in the back and came straight up. As long as we give them a target, everyone else is low priority."

Ray breathed out in relief as his chest unclenched.

"We'll go down the-"

The thought hit him like a freight train.

"Aakshi! She's a post-doc in Ron's group! She's been staying late across the hall."

"Renegade." The man said, and his partner sprinted for the door before he finished saying the word. Ray tried to follow, but the man caught him by the shoulder with an iron grip.

"Let me go!"

"No. If she's there, Renegade will get her out safely. You are their primary target and I will not allow you to commit suicide in the name of heroics."

He spat the last word and Ray shivered, stepping back so the man would let go.

"Who are you?" Ray finally asked.

"The name's Wilson." He answered gruffly.

"Really?" Ray blinked, looking at the man's bright orange and black mask and the uniform that was almost a costume. He'd been expecting another codename, not a real name. If that even was his name at all.

"This isn't my usual gig. I'm here because I owed Agent Waters a favor."

"Waters sent you?"

"Your prototype is one piece of a pet project of his, one that could tear his career apart if it gets compromised. There's a reason he sent me."

Ray chose not to read too deeply into any of that, instead making a note the he needed to have an unpleasant conversation with Waters the next time he saw him. He turned around, returning to the storage case. He unlocked it and flipped open the latches, matching a big show of checking the device for damages.

With his other hand, he reached for the emergency Justice League communicator attached to the belt hidden under his shirt. He pushed the emergency beacon, but nothing happened. The red light didn't go off and there was no indication that the signal had gone out at all.

Shit. The building was under a signal lockdown. It wouldn't have mattered if Ray had a real League comm, but this was the low-tech version they gave to reserve members and affiliates. The League wouldn't get the distress signal as long as it was within the dead zone.

Although… the comm had a GPS unit. If the NIDP got their hands on his prototype, it would be easier for the League to find it if they already knew where it was.

Using his left hand, Ray broke one of the support wires off the top layer of the mesh and wrapped it around the comm so that it was holding the emergency button down. He tucked it inside the body of the device and pressed the metal back together behind it before straightening.

"Any damage?" Wilson asked.

"Not too bad. I'll need to repair the breaks along the seams, but it's mostly cosmetic."

Wilson nodded as the door opened again and Aakshi ran inside, followed by his partner.

"Thank god," Ray said, grabbing Aakshi in a hug. "Are you okay?"

"Ray, what the hell is going on here?!"

"Active hostiles in the building. It's going to be okay, I promise." He answered.

"No! What's going on?!" Aakshi snapped in the voice that reminded him exactly why she was the one who Ron sent to bully the lab safety manager whenever he started poking his head around. "Who are they?"

She pointed at the mercenaries, who were discussing the logistics of splitting up verses staying with the device. Ray opened his mouth to answer but decided that any answer he gave would just infuriate her. Wilson answered for him.

"We're independent contractors hired by the US government. There are foreign agents attempting to steal Dr. Palmer's prototype and abduct any project members that may be useful. My job is to make sure that doesn't happen."

Aakshi whipped around to glare at Ray. "What the hell are you working on? Your project is short-range soundwave depletion."

"Yes… for, ahem, counter-intelligence." Ray coughed. He knew Aakshi had no particular love for the US military, or really any military in general.

"So, we're trapped in the building with these two versus however many people trying to kill the rest of us because the government has you playing Q?!"

"Dr. Girish." Wilson interrupted. "I am very good at my job. You are going to make it out of this in one piece."

"And what about everyone else in the building?" She shot back. "These men are armed and trigger happy. How are you going to keep everyone safe?"

"By dealing with the threat as efficiently as possible."

"How? Do you know how many of them are in the building? Where they are?"

Renegade whispered something to Wilson before grabbing Ray's upturned desktop computer.

"You're not going to be able to get anything off that. Any sensitive material is password protected and encrypted. Only the terminals in the main office can access security systems!" Ray tried to stop him, but his protests went ignored, and it didn't take long before the teen straightened.

"I've got eyes on them. Us too."

"How did you do that?" Ray demanded.

"Put us on a loop." Wilson ordered. Ray and Aakshi exchanged glances as the two began discussing the video feeds, shooting ideas back and forth in coded two- or three-word phrases.

"Clear on BSL. H1-5, E1,3 wide open."

"It's a trap. Check BSL-rear."

"No coverage."

Ray couldn't follow it, not when all the screens looked the same. But he tuned back in just in time to hear, "We take the device down to storage and let them ambush us."

"What?!"

"They're expecting us to go down, so the device will remain upstairs. We'll load the container with a decoy. Palmer, do any of the cabinets in here lock?"

Stunned, Ray nodded and scrambled to think of the best hiding place. "All the flammables cabinets and chem hoods lock. They're mostly empty, we just have IPA to clean the RF-melter and compressed butane refills for the torches."

Aakshi caught on immediately and began clearing space. Ray helped her, moving the flammable chemicals to the alternate storage cabinet. Normally, he wouldn't have worried about leaving them out for a night, but with his recent horrible luck, it wasn't worth the risk.

Once they carried the prototype from the storage box to the empty hood and locked the doors, Wilson nodded.

"Now we go down."

* * *

Dick Grayson

* * *

It's a short elevator ride to the basement, but it's the longest minute of my life. I spend the whole-time watching Slade, looking for some clue that he's got a plan besides "spring the trap."

When the doors open, Slade is out first.

"Clear." He says. Palmer and Girish are out next, pushing the cart with the decoy between them. Slade holds up a fist and I hit the elevator stop button, causing the doors to freeze halfway closed. Anyone else who comes downstairs will have to come through the staircase and that gives us some control over access points. Worst case, we can retreat to the elevator and strategically run away.

The scientists lead us to the entrance to the storage block, and the door should be protected by an eight-digit passcode with thumbprint recognition. Instead, the locks are disengaged and the door is already open. Slade goes in first, but it's still quiet.

They wheel the cart through next, and I take a deep breath before following inside. Goosebumps run down my arms when I follow Dr. Girish into the room and it turns into an echo chamber. Our footsteps bounce off the concrete, giving our position away to the twenty-something agents who are waiting to ambush us.

"Stay with them. Secure the device and meet at the back stairs." Slade orders. We nod and he disappears into the rows of storage lockers, making us look like an easier target while getting into a better position to hit back.

"Come on." Dr. Palmer nods his head. He and Dr. Girish push the cart down one of the long corridors lined with storage lockers. The fluorescent lights cast an artificial glow over the room, leaving long shadows. The sound of the air conditioner chugging away is only broken by the cart's squeaky wheel.

In the light, I can see that Aakshi's hands are shaking and her face is pale. Palmer keeps looking over his shoulders, trying to find the people he knows are watching us.

"Just a little further." He mutters, not even bothering to check the locker numbers we pass. Thirty rows later, he stops and scrambles at a large combination lock on one of the huge bottom lockers. His fingers slip off suddenly and he lets out an angry, "Dammit!"

I jump back, hands on my bo staff. He looks back at me and shakes his head.

"Sorry. I'm… sorry."

The last words come out as a growl, but he's looking down as he says it. Dr. Girish's lips narrow, but she doesn't look any happier than he does. They're both still dealing with this way better than most civilians would. The locker swings open. Palmer picks up one end of the box and Girish takes the other side. They've managed to transfer it off the cart and into the air when the ambush starts.

"Stay behind me!" I kick the cart on its side, giving them a tiny bit more cover. It's not good but it's better than nothing when a crowd of armed agents start shooting at you.

I flip and dodge, batting out with my bo staff, but I'm ridiculously outnumbered. My only advantage is that they're clearly trying not to hit the scientists or the box right behind me, but even bullets hitting armor still hurt.

Slade appears behind a group of five and takes them down with brutal efficiency before they even realize he's there.

The first round of bullets runs out, and half the group reloads while the other half pull out knives and decide to take their chances. Four on one isn't fair, but I take them down with only a few more cuts and scrapes than I had before, plus one throbbing ankle. Palmer lets out a shout, and Aakshi reaches for him from behind the upturned cart. A group of agents is keeping Slade busy while another team decided to take Palmer instead of making another attempt at the device.

I sprint after them, turning the corner and crossing into the next corridor, quickly closing the distance. I hurl a projectile into the wrist of the guy holding Palmer's arm, who swears as the doctor wrenches himself free. He punches the agent on his other side in the face and knocks him to the ground. I charge forwards, slamming the first agent in the helmet with my bo staff. Palmer tackles the third guy and the numbers four through eight come after me with knives and guns blazing.

Fighting five against one is harder when they all come at you in synch and they've clearly been watching how you fight. The only good thing is that they're too close to each other to risk firing a shot. The charge in my staff is running low and blocking a strike from the left and the middle is hard enough without the guy on the right trying to take my head off. I duck under a fist swinging at my head and follow it with a back-kick in the chest that knocks the guy off his feet. His friend takes his place and I dodge another knife strike, swinging my bo staff around to make a barrier. I realize they have me surrounded too late to do anything but react to the onslaught. I can't see Palmer over the tops of their heads and fear runs down my back.

One of them kicks me in the back of the kneecap and my leg buckles. I go down, curling to land on my side instead of my wrists. One of them tries to kick me and I catch his knee on both sides, tugging forwards to throw him as hard as I can at the two guys on the other side.

Two left.

I roll onto my feet in time for one of them to charge at me, and when he gets close enough, I flip into the air, vaulting off his shoulders and nailing him in the back of the head with my heel. I land on both feet and turn.

My heart pounds. The last agent has one arm wrapped around Palmer's neck and the other aiming a gun at me. Dr. Palmer is barely conscious, his head lolling forwards in the agent's grip while he tugs at his arm.

"Let him go." I say, lowering myself into a fighting stance with my bo staff at ready position.

"Not an option." The agent frowns before he opens fire.

I charge forwards, staff swinging. He dodges and retreats but I keep pressing. He gets another shot off and it nails me in the shoulder. Pain explodes through the bulletproof armor and I fall flat onto my back. The next thing I know, his foot slams into my face and there's a crack as my nose breaks. Bloods runs down and I shout as the pain burns across my face, trying to get out of the way but my head spins and he draws his foot back again.

There's a squelching sound like a knife being dragged across a squishy rock.

His whole body freezes. A choked sound escapes his throat and his eyes go wider than I've ever seen a person's eyes go.

The tip of a sword pokes through the left side of his chest, right where his heart is. Blood spills out of the cut, first a little and then more and more and then dark red blood gushes out of the hole, running down his shirt and pooling on the floor. He goes limp slowly, like his body didn't realize he was dying at first.

"NO!" I scream, pushing myself up but it's too late. Slade pulls the swords out in one smooth motion and the man drops to the ground with a hollow thud. The color is bleaching from his skin and he gurgles on the blood and spit spilling over his lips. It stains his chin crimson as it drips down.

I throw myself onto my knees and press my hands over the hole in his chest as hard as I can, desperately trying to stop the bleeding even though it's too late. The sword went all the way through his heart. Blood soaks through my gloves and warm, thick ooze covers my hands and there's so much blood.

Tears run down my face and the puddle around us is just getting bigger but the man is still alive. His eyes lock onto mine. They're a deep hazel with flecks of green and gold and there's a hardness to his gaze that pins me in place. He knows he's about to die. His lips move, stained with blood and cracked, and a hollow wheezing comes out. He's trying to say something but there's too much blood and he gurgles again, bubbles of spit pooling at the corners of his mouth.

I can't tell when he dies. The look in his eyes changes slowly; the hardness doesn't soften, but it shifts. All the muscles that were strained and taut relax and a new smell joins the stench of iron. A few seconds ago, he was alive. Now there's just a body covered in blood and feces and hazel eyes staring at nothing for the rest of eternity.

Slade grabs the back of my shirt and drags me to my feet. I look up at him, horrified and numb, thick blood congealing on my hands and caking into the legs of my pants and staining my shoes.

"You… you…"

"Your mask fell off." Slade holds it out, paying no attention to the corpse on the floor behind me.

"You killed him."

"To save your life." Slade answers slowly.

I open my mouth to say something, to yell, to scream, to take back the blood covering the floor and drying on my skin, but nothing comes out.

"He was about to shoot you." He drops to one knee, putting his hands on my shoulders and leaning forwards until I have no choice but to look at him. "If I hadn't stopped him, you would be dead."

"No." I shake my head, numbness spreading down my body like someone dumped a bucket of cold water on me. "No. You killed him! You didn't have to… you could've…"

"Breathe. You're okay."

"No! No, no, no, no, no…"

"Dammit," I hear Slade growl, before he's back in my space again. "You're bleeding."

He reaches forwards but I jerk back, slapping his hands away.

"Don't touch me," I growl.

"Renegade—"

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" I scream, pushing myself to my feet. Tears slide down my face, dissolving the lines of dried blood. "You're a murderer! You killed him! You could have taken him out instead of…"

My voice cuts off, throat closing as a wave of grief crashes into me.

"I've had enough of this." Slade shakes his head.

"Stay away from me!" I spit, pulling out my bo staff and lowering to a defensive position.

Shit, he's fast. I dodge, parrying with the bo staff but every strike just makes my arms hurt and he just keeps pressing me back towards the row of lockers. If he corners me, that's it.

I barely jump out of the way of his foot, landing in time to block a punch with my staff. I pull back and change directions, swinging through the slam the weapon into his temple. Then I drop the staff, turn, and sprint the other way.

I get two steps before he grabs the back of my neck. A stabbing pain erupts under his hand, but it's gone in a second. It only takes another two seconds before everything goes numb.

But it's not just numb. It's fuzzy.

Everything is fuzzy.

My eyes start to close and everything is fuzzy and dark.

Except the lights.

They're light.

Really light.

Too light.

My eyes close.

* * *

Ray Palmer

* * *

"Easy, doctor, take it easy," Ray heard. There were people on either side of him, hands trying to help prop him up. "You're alright."

He blinked his eyes open slowly, finding himself on the ground surrounded by paramedics.

"What happened?" He asked.

"Heart rate one forty five, bp one thirty over eighty. Appropriate pupil dilation in response to stimuli," one paramedic rambled off, poking and prodding Ray until he almost shoved the woman away. A man in a dark suit approached, gesturing for them to stop.

"Give him some room to breathe, and someone get that mask off him," the man ordered. A paramedic pulled the oxygen mask off of Ray's face and he exhaled in relief as the claustrophobia faded. "You gave us a scare, Dr. Palmer."

"Yeah, well that's going around lately. Maybe something that should have been mentioned in any of the security runs." Ray snarled.

"Easy, doc. We're not as all-knowing as the movies make us look. We briefed you on all the possible threats we knew about, but the NIDP is barely on our radar. Hell, they're barely on anyone's radar."

"Then do you care to explain to me why they tried to drag me and my prototype out of the building if they're so harmless, Agent?"

"Ray-"

"It's Dr. Palmer. You and I are not friends."

"Fine. Dr. Palmer, we had the situation handled. Head bumps aside, you made it out in one piece along with everyone else who worked in the building. If you want to be angry that you don't have top level clearance, if you want to be angry that I left out some details so you and your team could sleep at night, fine. As long as you understand that we took all necessary precautions."

"So you're hiring ninjas instead of STRIKE teams now?" Ray seethed.

"Special circumstances."

"Agent Waters, everyone in this building was at risk tonight. Anyone could have been killed if the wrong person got pissed off. You had better give me a damn good reason why I shouldn't hand in my two weeks right this second."

"We didn't know this would happen." Waters admitted after a pause. "This is a high priority project, and we treated it with the same precautions and considerations we give our most important projects. We've heard rumors from the beginning that various groups would like to get their hands on it, but until two days ago we had absolutely nothing to suspect there would be a real attempt. We had every precaution in place. My only regret is that our response time was so long. We're not omniscient, but I promise your, Dr. Palmer, we didn't leave you undefended."

Ray closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, trying to calm himself down.

"What happened to my prototype?"

Agent Waters looked a tiny bit sheepish.

"We aren't sure where it is, but all the invaders have been neutralized. They didn't get their hands on it."

Ray stood up and headed back for the building. Waters followed him silently, waving off the paramedics that tried to tag along. The agent didn't try to make any conversation which saved him a punch in the face as far as Ray was concerned. For now.

"Smart." Waters said when Ray unlocked the flammables cabinet to reveal the mostly intact prototype.

Ray ground his teeth together and turned to face the man.

"How many casualties?"

"I told you, everyone made it out of the building."

"No. You told me that everyone who worked in the building made it out. So you have one more chance to give me a real answer."

Agent Waters shook his head.

"Just one. Ray, he knew what he was doing and what the stakes were."

"He knew the stakes? That's your excuse?! Your 'necessary precautions' got people killed, and it was almost a hell of a lot worse." Ray seethed.

The man didn't respond.

Ray turned around so he didn't have to look at him, and also to extract the hidden communicator out from where he'd stuffed it inside the mesh. The red light was on now, which meant he didn't have to wait much longer for the Justice League to respond.

"Well, you got your prototype. I hope it was worth it. You don't need me to finish it from here."

"You're making a mistake, Ray."

"If you think so, then I know it's the right choice." Ray nodded at him firmly. "Agent."

* * *

"Atom, are you alright? We got your distress signal, but it looks like everything is under control now." Superman asked, touching down on the roof of the building.

The Atom frowned, leaning forwards to watch the agents move around on the ground. From seven stories up, they looked like ants, which was ironic given the fact that the Atom was currently an inch tall.

"Does the League have any info on the NIDP? Specifically, what they want with counter-intelligence gear?"

Superman held out his hand and the Atom jumped, easily generating enough force to propel himself up.

"Let's find out."

Martian Manhunter, Black Canary and Green Lantern were waiting in the conference room when they arrived. Superman put the Atom on the ground and he returned to his normal size.

"What happened?" Green Lantern demanded.

"A group of foreign intelligence agents tried to kill me tonight." The Atom took the seat next to him. Superman sat on his other side, completing the circle.

"What?" Canary asked.

"Long story short, they took the building hostage."

He recounted the whole story, beginning with the late-night call with Carol all the way up to possibly temporarily terminating his contract and possibly costing his parent university hundreds of thousands of dollars.

"And you couldn't get to your suit?" Green Lantern demanded.

"That's the thing; I had it on the whole time! At least, the belt. But it didn't matter, Hal. There can't be any records connecting me to the Atom. A lot of the work my research group does is for military contracts, and the size-shifting technology I've developed cannot become government property. I don't make weapons, and if the CIA or the Army found out, they could take it all and commit atrocities. Biological warfare on a microscopic scale or nukes big enough to take out an entire country. I will do everything in my power to keep my technology out of the wrong hands."

The heroes stayed silent, but Manhunter nodded his agreement and Canary pursed her lips grimly.

"They brought in two mercenaries to fight a squad of thirty-five trained combatants and they were scary as hell. I…" Ray swallowed, not feeling particularly heroic. "They didn't let Aakshi or me out of their sight for even a second. I know how it sounds, but the guy was terrifying. It just knew somehow that if I did anything, if I used any of my powers or slipped away, he would know my ID and that would be it. That's not to say… if things really went sideways, and Aakshi's life was in danger, I would've done whatever I had to, but god I…"

"It is alright." Manhunter stopped him.

"How could I have made the choice between saving lives and keeping my secrets safe? If I'd done something, nobody would've died."

"Atom, none of us blame you for that." Black Canary put a hand on his shoulder.

Superman nodded. "Ultimately, the League has chosen to protect our members' identities and technologies rather than share them with the world at large for the exact reasons you said."

"And for god's sakes, Ray, these guys were actively trying to kill you. Sometimes there's only so much you can do!" Green Lantern threw his hands in the air.

"Particularly when you are in a compromised position." Martian Manhunter nodded.

"Honestly, it just… it didn't even feel real. I knew when we got the proposal that the project was coming through the NSF on behalf of the CIA, but that was it. I have no idea why the Pokolistanis would want it, or how they even found out we were working on the project in the first place. Everything that happened tonight came out of absolutely nowhere."

"You have my word, the League will look into this," Superman promised. "We can also outfit your building with breach alarms, similar to the setups at STAR Labs, WayneTech and Ferris Industries. If there's an emergency, we'll get the signal no matter what."

"Thank you." He nodded. "That's all I came to ask for."

"Speaking of requests, have you changed your mind about ours?" Green Lantern asked. The Atom frowned before sighing.

"Before tonight, the answer was still no. But… I didn't act tonight when I could've saved a life. I think it might be time to stop playing it so safe."

"There's no pressure." Black Canary raised her hands. "We won't kick you off the reserve roster if you say no."

"No. I've made up my mind. I want to become a full member of the Justice League."


	16. Chapter 16

Dick Grayson

Gotham Academy

Thursday, September 24th, 2012

* * *

"…and the homework should be posted on Blackboard already. Actually, let me check if it's actually up or if this website is being impossible again."

"What are you doing this weekend?" Bette leans across Artemis' desk while Mr. Torcado turns around to fight with his computer. I snort. It's not up yet, and it's going to take him at least five minutes to figure that out. We've got ten minutes until he gives up completely, and the bell's going to ring in seven. Artemis shrugs.

"Probably nothing. I might go visit my uncle."

"The one in Star City?" Bette asks.

Artemis nods, copying the last equation off the board before looking up.

Wow. She's really committing to the Green Arrow's niece thing.

"That's so far," Bette frowns. "Especially just for a weekend."

"I was actually just there with Bruce for a Queen Industries fundraiser. Star's a really fun city, you know, as long as you're not hanging out with Oliver Queen." I smile innocently and Artemis's eyes widen like her cover's been blown.

"I'm not! Hanging with Oliver Queen, obviously." She backpedals, glaring at me while pretending not to. If she ever finds out my identity, she'll kill me for this, but for now this is too good to pass up.

"Too bad." Babs whacks me in the arm. "It'd be nice if someone besides Dick could name drop for once."

"Babs! I'm just kidding. Ollie's a nice guy." I shake my head in fake embarrassment, "Sorry, that's not even remotely relevant to you and your uncle. What part of Star does he live in?"

"I don't know. It's a couple blocks from the train station." Artemis shrugs, trying to hide the blush spreading across her face. "Anyways, what are you doing, Bette?"

"I'm going to see Taylor Swift!" Bette beams.

"What?!" Nick finally looks up from his phone.

"No way! You got tickets?" Babs demands. "I thought they sold out in five minutes!"

"Well, my dad is friends with the guy who owns the venue, so he pulled some strings!"

Artemis blinks. "You guys do know how you sound, right?"

Bette nods her head in acknowledgement. "Okay, yes, but… I'm not going to turn away Taylor Swift tickets."

She says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world and Artemis gives her a not-so-subtle side-eye. The bell rings, interrupting an awkward standoff but leading to a super awkward goodbye and Artemis practically stomping out of the room. Babs and I look at each other. She frowns and tilts her head at Artemis. I nod.

"Hey Bette, did you still want to carpool to practice next week?" Babs asks, giving me time to catch Artemis alone.

"Artemis!" I call. She turns back.

"Did I forget something?"

"No. Just wanted to walk with you."

"Where's Babs?" She raises an eyebrow suspiciously.

I make a face.

"She and Bette ditched me to talk gymnastics. Like gymnastics could ever be better than acrobatics."

"That's a pretty hard stance."

I shrug, tugging on my backpack straps as we turn the corner. "Hey, I'm an acrobat. Anything they can do, I could do when I was five."

"Riiiight."

I almost stop walking. When Bruce first adopted me, everywhere I went, people called me a charity case or a circus freak. Anyone who's trying to be an asshole still calls me that. But it's weird that there are still people who don't know any of that.

Artemis is my friend, but when she looks at me as a civilian, she just sees money.

"I get it." I tell her. She rolls her eyes.

"Sure you do, Mr. My-Dad-Is-Literally-A-Billionaire."

"Artemis, I grew up in a circus. My parents were trapeze artists." I pause. "We were poor."

The words feel bitter on my tongue. I hate that it feels like I should be ashamed of.

"Oh." She looks down, reaching for the railing as we hit the stairs. "I just can't get used to it."

"Yeah…"

We fall into step in a huge group of students escaping school for the day. The sound of eighty kids talking bounces off the confined walls of the stairwell, masking our conversation.

"Don't get me wrong, Bette is so nice and sweet, but she's just… entitled. You know? She doesn't even realize how much she has."

"Yup."

"Do you get used to it?"

I think about the fancy parties and the constant trips to islands and vineyards and how Bruce pours money into back into the city through Wayne Industries and also into Batman's tech.

"Eventually. But it's not about suddenly having all the money anyone could ever want. It's the people. In the circus, people would literally give you the clothes off their back. You helped however you could. The thing that's hard to get used to is that a lot of people here always put themselves first."

Artemis snorts. "Okay, I see that."

"Don't let it get to you. Most of the people here really are nice. And I know Bette can be a little oblivious sometimes but she's a good friend. That's what Babs says, at least." I grin.

"Thanks, Grayson. You're not… as bad as I thought."

"High praise, Crock. You can call me Dick."

"I'd really prefer not to."

"Oh, get over yourself."

"I'll think about it."

We part ways at the bottom of the stairs.

"I'll see you tomorrow." I wave. A.k.a. see you in a little while for training.

"Bye, Dick." Artemis says, grimacing when she realizes she used my name without thinking. Then she pauses. Finally, she shrugs. Cool. Guess we're officially on a first name basis.

I check my watch. It's 2:50. That means I have plenty of time before training tonight, and since I don't have a lot of homework… maybe I'll convince Batman to come on an early patrol before I zeta to the Cave.

* * *

"Why are we here again?" I drum my fingers against the roof's retaining wall and I can practically see Batman's eye twitching under the mask with every new tap.

"Scoping out a lead. Like I told you before." He answers gruffly.

"Okay, but here? Really?" I raise an eyebrow. Batman ignores me, so I poke at him again. "Your lead just happens to be on a diamond supplier that a certain cat lady likes to frequent?"

"Don't you have training soon?"

I roll my eyes. He never rises to the bait anymore, even if he knows I'm right. Stupid Catwoman, cutting a perfectly good patrol short. Then again, I check my holocomputer and Batman's right. I gotta go.

"Night Batman."

Batman grunts in response.

I hit the rooftops, running and grappling across the Gotham skyline towards the nearest Zeta tube. I see the phone booth and drop down behind it. The Zeta records indicate no activity tonight, so if Artemis is coming for training she hasn't shown up yet.

I duck behind the booth and wait.

Luckily, it doesn't take more than two minutes, three minutes tops before she gets here.

"Artemis?" I grin, stepping out of the shadows. She gasps and turns, eyes wide.

"Robin! I, uh…"

"Wow, fancy seeing you here, in Gotham City. Batman's city. You know, instead of Star City, where your Uncle Green Arrow lives!"

Artemis blushes bright red and starts stammering something about her cousin and a spelling bee, and it takes all the self-control I have not to ask if that cousin is Green Arrow's kid. I've teased her about Uncle Ollie enough for today.

Finally, she has enough and snaps, "Alright, whatever. Let's just go to the cave."

I hold my hands up placatingly.

"You know I'm kidding, Arty. We're always happy to have you here in Gotham. Well at least, I am. Better watch out for…" I trail off, lifting my fingers to my head to mime Bat ears.

"Don't call me that." Artemis rolls her eyes. "Now get in the stupid box or we're gonna be late."

I shrug and push open the telephone box doors, closing them behind me. The scanner whirrs to life and announces, "Recognized, Robin. B 0-2."

The world disappears in a flash of light before the cave reappears. Everything is fine for about a second and a half, and then a fireball hurtles towards my head.

* * *

"—in!"

Something's pushing me. It hurts. Everything hurts.

"—bin!"

Dizzy.

Pain! Sharp, hard pressure hits and a million things hit me at once.

"Robin!" Artemis shrieks, hands over my ribcage.

Coughs erupt out of my lungs, water spilling out. A hand slaps my back, forcing the rest of the water out. I gasp for air, coughing and clawing at empty air.

"He's breathing!" Artemis exclaims, voice overflowing with sheer relief.

I take a few deep breaths and smile at her.

"Way to get traught."

Artemis smiles back like she's about to start crying from sheer relief. She helps me sit up, and even though the world spins, I'm okay. I nod at her dizzily, looking around the cave. Superboy and Kid Flash are still encased in metal, but they're both awake.

"Is he okay?" Kid Flash shouts, and Artemis nods so fast it gives me whiplash.

"He's okay!" She shouts back.

I see Aqualad leaning over Miss Martian and I grab Artemis's wrist.

"Is she okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, she's fine! She woke up a second before you did."

"What happened?"

"Torpedo hit you." Artemis takes a deep breath to steady herself. "I thought you drowned. I pretended to give myself up, and I had one shot. Got the EMP going, it worked just like you said."

I smile at her and try to say something reassuring, but my head throbs and the world spins violently.

"I'm going to pass out now." I mutter.

* * *

Wayne Manor

3 am

* * *

My arms are shaking even though they're pulled tight around my legs. The night sky through the window is just starting to lighten; dawn isn't for another two hours but it's still light enough to pick out the branches on the trees outside. Normally when I can't sleep I climb out onto the roof through the upper living room window, but not tonight. I've never been afraid of falling, but I can't trust my body not to fail me the way it did today.

Red Torpedo never should have gotten the jump on me. My friends were counting on me and I failed them. If it wasn't for Artemis, we wouldn't have gotten out alive. Wally and Kaldur and M'gann and Conner… they would have died because of me.

The tidal wave crashing into me hasn't stopped playing over and over in my mind and I've tried to figure out what went wrong. I know the answer, no matter how much I hate it.

It was my fault. I should have been better.

I'm supposed to be better than this.

I don't know how to work with people less experienced than me. This team… I was so excited about it, but I shouldn't be on it. They're better off… and way safer without me.

I forget how they think on missions. I know what my objective is, and I forget that they aren't Batman. They won't take the lead if I do the scouting, and they won't pick up the slack when I make a mistake. Instead, my mistakes make their jobs impossible. When I do my ninja thing- or whatever Wally calls it-, they have no idea where I'm going or where I am, while Batman would already be three steps ahead.

I trust them to watch my back when they aren't, and I get in the way when they actually know what they're doing.

I acted the only way I could. I've been fighting crime for long enough that I know how to stay focused when the world is crashing around me. I've been trained by Batman and by Slade for life or death situations. But today, I was so scared for Wally and my friends that I couldn't focus. I was too slow, time and time again. The Reds almost caught us so many times, and beyond thinking of a way to communicate with them, I had no plan.

I couldn't let Artemis know that, though. If I told her, "Get traught or get dead," then showed her how scared I was, she'd never have been able to pull herself together. But maybe if I had, she would have had my back when I tried to install the EMP.

I shouldn't have trusted her. Or maybe I should have, maybe I was right to, because she saved us all in the end.

But I let us down. I didn't see Red Torpedo. I should have been paying more attention, I should have been faster installing the EMP, I should have been faster moving out of the way of the tidal wave, I should have held my breath long enough to stay conscious instead of passing out…

I should have… I should have been… I should be better.

I can't be on a team with them. They're superheroes with actual powers, and I'm just a kid who's in over my head. They depend on me every time we go on a mission. They put their lives in my hands and I can't… I'm not good enough to keep them safe.

I don't know how to be on a team.

When I work with Batman, we're a seamless duo. I know how he fights and thinks, and he knows me just as well. He can adapt to a situation and he can pick up the slack when I flip the wrong way.

Slade, even with his demand for perfection, is easy to work with too. He knows what I'm going to do before I do it, and he never misses a beat when we have to change the plan. He takes the lead, tells me what to do and it works. Fighting alongside Slade makes me feel… invincible in a way that not even Batman can do.

Even those team-ups with Wally and Roy were better. We watched out for each other and we trusted each other to have our backs. Sure, it wasn't as good as working with our mentors, but it was fun and we were safer in numbers.

But the team… we haven't worked together long enough to know how each other fight or think, what our strengths and weaknesses are. We just do our best not to die, and that's not good enough. Kaldur is trying his best, but he can't do everything, and I'm not good enough to lead other people and pull my own weight. I just can't do it.

I lean my head back against the wall. Quick inhale, long exhale. The corner of my lip curls up in disgust.

I let my team down. I couldn't save them. I failed. Not to mention the fact that I almost drowned on top of leaving all my friends to their demise, and abandoning an insecure former assassin to defeat two super-villain-androids by herself. And then, just when we thought we were safe, we were betrayed all over again. We were all helpless against Red Tornado's attack.

That stupid robot!

This wasn't supposed to happen. Slade promised he would help me so that I never had to be helpless again. All the lying, the sneaking out, the training, it was all for nothing. It was useless.

What are we supposed to do now? How are we supposed to deal with knowing that the enemy could ambush us at any time and we'll be sitting ducks? The League couldn't reach us. Mount Justice was supposed to be safe but how will it ever be safe again? Will we ever feel safe again?

When was the last time I ever really felt safe?

I close my eyes.

That's easy. I was eight years old, climbing up the ladder to join my parents on the trapeze.

My life started going to shit when Tony Zucco murdered my parents and it has never stopped. Every time I think something is getting better, life reminds me that I don't get to have good things.

Now, everything I do is just another mistake, and I don't have the slightest clue about what to do now.

* * *

Gotham Academy

Friday, September 25th, 2012

* * *

"Does this stuff even count as pizza?" Josh asks, holding up the offending slice. He makes a face as the cheese peels off and flops down onto the plate. Bette makes a choked sound and pushes his plate away from her. Josh takes this as a cue to shake the remains of the pizza dramatically. "I mean, seriously! This is cardboard and melted cheese!"

Babs laughs and pokes the pile of cheese with a plastic spoon. "Yum! So appetizing!"

She slides her bag over so I have enough room to set my tray down. I toss my backpack on the ground and sit. Bette's friend Nick looks up from his Caesar salad and waves at me.

"This food is honestly disturbing! You'd think at a school this expensive, they'd at least be able to afford something edible. See, at least Dick has the right idea." Josh points at my lunch.

I try to grin and make some kind of joke about how the food should be a little more turbed, but Artemis is sitting next to Josh, head buried in her calculus homework. Instead, I shrug. "Pb&j is always a safe bet."

"If you're feeling adventurous, you could always try the sketchy sushi." Babs grins.

"I'm not spending nine dollars on something that might poison me!" Josh exclaims, looking scandalized.

Artemis slams her math book shut and looks up angrily. "Or, you could stop complaining about the food and just be grateful that you're at a school where they actually have enough to feed everyone."

Everyone goes quiet. Nick looks down at the table and scratches his hair.

"Are… you okay, Artemis?" Bette asks, her voice thick with worry.

"Yeah. I'm just…" she pauses. The haunted look in her eyes matches mine. "I had a bad night."

I look away so she can't see the shiver running down my spine. I owe her my life. I wonder if she's ever saved anyone before. It's scarier than being saved, because afterwards, you have all the time in the world to think about how close you were to failing, how close someone else was to dying because of your mistakes.

When I look up, Bette has a hand on Artemis's arm and is whispering something to her. Everyone else is trying to restart the conversation and give them privacy.

"So… your brother's visiting soon, right?" Babs asks Nick.

"Yeah. His band has a gig in New York so we're all going to go with him."

"That's so cool! What does he play?"

"He's the vocals. I can show you a video clip if you want."

"Yeah!"

While Nick pulls out his phone and entertains Babs and Josh, I pick at my sandwich. My stomach lets out a growl even though there's a cold pit in the middle of my chest.

I realize I've been staring into space when Artemis looks at me and our eyes lock. She looks exhausted and the bags under her eyes are even darker than mine.

I should run over to her and give her a hug and tell her she did everything she could and none of it was her fault and thank her because she saved my life and all our friends' too. But I can't. She doesn't know who I really am, and I'm still not allowed to tell her.

Something cold and prickly presses into my arm and I jump.

"You good, Dick?"

Using dramatics to cover the fact that she completely caught me off guard, I let my head fall forwards and whine, "I'm tired."

Babs lets out a hum of agreement and takes a bite of something crunchy. "Take a nap before calc. We have like twenty minutes."

"You'd forget to wake me up," I mumble, head buried in my arms.

"Oh yeah. I do forget sometimes."

I lift my head up so I can roll my eyes at her. She responds my sticking something in my face.

"Celery?"

Shit!

I almost fall off the bench as I push myself away from the potentially deadly vegetable. I never want to eat a piece of celery ever again, knowing what Slade can use it for. Not now, not ever.

"No way! Get that thing away from me!"

"You're so weird," Babs laughs, shaking her head.

"Hey, some guy just died from an allergy attack."

"To celery?" Josh asks.

Crap why did I say that? Crap crap crap what if they get suspicious? Why did I say that?! It's not like it's the kind of thing a normal kid would know about for any reason whatsoever! Shit!

"Oh wait, I think heard about that," Bette says, reaching for her phone. After a second, she brightens and holds out her screen. The cold pit in my stomach tightens and I take a deep breath as quietly as I can.

"That's crazy!" Josh exclaims.

Artemis, curious despite her exhaustion, grabs the phone away and starts reading with a puzzled expression. "Apparently he got coffee at this hipster coffee place, and someone accidentally used celery water in the coffee machine."

"Who the hell puts celery water in a coffee machine?" Bette snorts.

"What if it wasn't an accident?!" Nick gasps theatrically. My heart races and for a second, my stomach drops like I fell off the bench again.

"Oh, come on." Bette pushes his hand off her lunch tray, stopping him from grabbing her Oreos.

Artemis frowns, looking at the article closer.

"What if it wasn't?" she mutters, her frown deepening.

Shit! Not good!

My palms are starting to sweat and I clear my throat nervously. "Uh… can we maybe not talk about this during lunch?"

Artemis looks at me in surprise, then her expression turns guilty. "Sorry."

Babs looks back and forth between us.

"…are you sure you guys are okay?"

I stare down at my half-eaten pb&j and my stomach churns. "I'm not hungry. I'll see you in class."

I grab my bag and head for the bathroom, barely noticing that Artemis is making a bee-line for the exit too. I close the stall door and bury my head in my hands.

My phone chirps once and I jump. That's Robin's phone. My non-superhero phones are always set to vibrate or silent.

I dig it out of my bag and open the message as fast as I can. The messaging app takes a few seconds to open, which sucks but there's no way to make the encryption faster. Or at least, no ways that won't take a huge amount of time and effort.

It's from Artemis in the team's group chat.

'_Hey… anyone else kind of not want to go back to the cave today?'_

My heart thuds and I almost choke with relief, but I don't want to be the first one to respond. One by one, everyone's icons drop to the bottom of the screen, showing that they've seen it. But apparently no one knows what to say either.

Kaldur starts typing, but he deletes whatever he was going to say.

Thank god for Wally, because he charged forwards with his usual grace and saved the day.

'_Pizza? There's a place in Keystone'_

'_Yes!' _M'gann responds immediately. I send a thumbs-up emoji. Everyone responds quickly after that, and no one feels the need to say anything else.

'_Great. It's Pizza Corner on Second Street, one block from the zeta.'_

* * *

Pizza Corner

* * *

Surprisingly, Wally is the only one there when I walk in. I guess Barry really is the reason they always run late. He waves me over to a circular booth way in the back where we'll all be able to talk in privacy. It's perfect.

"How did you find this place?" I ask, sliding into the seat next to him.

He rolls his eyes at me. "Come on, Dick. Like you don't know I've been to every single pizza place in the country. Well, state. Okay, city. Well… actually, yeah. State."

"Of course," I grin wryly. "How could I have possibly forgotten?"

"Guess there's just more important things on your mind," he jokes, but then the humor is gone. I put my chin in my hands and sigh.

"How are you doing?" He asks.

I snort.

"Crappy. I don't know." I lift my head up and look at him. His ginger hair, which is normally messy, looks like a tornado hit it. His green eyes look sunken into his skull, and his skin is pale. "Are you okay? You look… horrible."

"Wow, thanks." He leans back in the booth, his head knocking against the wall lightly. "I couldn't sleep at all last night, and I got twitchy if I stayed still for too long. I ended up running the entire eastern seaboard and back. Sort of forgot to eat."

I wince. "Hence the…" I point at his face, where the skin looks really sallow and pale.

"Yeah. Pizza should be out any minute though." His stomach lets out an enormous rumble and he looks miserable. I reach into my pocket, where Alfred cut the seams so I can reach into the utility belt under my sweatshirt. Batman restocked everything last night after… so I have a bunch of protein bars.

"Here." I toss one to him.

"You're the best."

He unwraps it and takes a huge bite, shaking his head.

"I don't know, Rob. I really thought we were ready for this gig, but last night? We were—I was useless. I didn't even have a chance to fight, and then WHAM! Third degree burns everywhere from being encased in molten steel. And you and Artemis, I thought… I thought we were all going to die. And where was the fucking League?"

My hands clench into trembling fists and I realize how angry I am. No. Not angry, furious. The League told us the Cave was safe. They told us we would be protected there, and that they were keeping an eye out in case something went wrong.

It's not the League's fault that Red Tornado betrayed us.

But when we needed their help the most, they weren't there. If Artemis hadn't made that shot, the Reds would have killed us all, or taken us as hostages, and the League would have been too late to stop them. The League made us vulnerable, and then they didn't protect us.

And now we're the ones paying for their mistakes.

Wally takes another bite of the bar and chews with a sour expression. We both look up when the bell above the door rings and Artemis walks in. I wave her over and she sits next to Wally at the end of the booth. For once, they don't immediately start fighting with each other.

"I got four plain and three pepperoni," he tells her as he finishes inhaling the protein bar.

"What are the rest of us going to eat?" she teases, the smile on her face not reaching her eyes.

Holy trauma Batman. Yesterday really fucked us up.

Kaldur walks in a minute later, wearing a dark blue sweater in the same shade as mine. The three of us watch our normally confident, steadfast leader trudge his way towards the booth. His shoulders are slumped forwards and defeated. He tries to smile when he reaches us, but calling the expression a grimace would be generous. I move over as he slides into the center of the booth next to me, thinking of something I can say that doesn't have anything to do with this mess.

"_We match." _I say in the jumbled Atlantean-Surface mixed language we haven't used in years. Kaldur blinks, then looks down at his sweater to confirm it.

"_Smart minds think the same."_ He answers in the same way.

"_Chocolate cake is my favorite surface food."_

"It is?" He asks in English. I'm not sure if he's more confused at my response or because he knows my favorite food is Alfred's raspberry chocolate chip pancakes.

I shrug, "That's all I can remember how to say. Well, that and _'fuck you, you barnacle infested pile of donkey shit and may your soul burn in the fiery wrath of hell until the depths of the oceans freeze over,' _but that seemed kind of rude."

Kaldur laughs softly, and even though it has a kind of bitter edge, I give myself a point for it. "I admit that I don't remember why we decided such an expression was necessary."

"We probably just got bored."

"That would explain it."

He glances over at Wally and frowns. "You do not look well, my friend."

"Pot, kettle," Wally shoots back, but then he forces himself to relax. "I'll be fine after I eat."

The door opens again and M'gann and Conner walk in together. Nobody says anything about how tightly their hands are clasped together.

"Thank Mars you're all okay," M'gann says, like a weight lifted off her shoulders. Artemis pulls her onto the bench and into a hug.

"I'm glad you're okay, too. I was worried I was too late." She admits.

"It was an amazing shot," Conner tells her.

"Indeed." Kaldur agrees.

I was too unconscious to see it, but the odds were a million to one. Artemis flushes, looking down at the table. Nobody knows what to say next. I take a breath and say what we're all thinking.

"The cave was supposed to be safe. That was the whole point of hiding in plain sight. But it didn't work."

"They caught us with our guard down." Wally adds darkly. "So what do we do now?"

We all look at Kaldur.

"We need a way to alert the League if anything like this should ever happen again. Clearly, the cave's security is not infallible. Robin, I believe you could do something to fix that."

"I can try."

"We have been too patient, blindly waiting for the League to direct us. We must be more proactive. We need to familiarize ourselves with whoever we may face, so that we are prepared to exploit their weaknesses while protecting ours. I will ask the Batman to equip us all with emergency supplies. Rebreathers, fire-suppressants, back-up radios. Emergency beacons to contact the League in crucial situations."

"And what do we do about Tornado?" Conner asks.

"Regardless of what the League thinks, Tornado is one of ours. We will find him. Agreed?" Kaldur asks.

I look at Wally. Wally looks at Artemis. Artemis looks at M'gann. M'gann looks at Conner. Conner looks at me. We're all thinking the same thing.

"Agreed." M'gann says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor kids, being ambushed in your own home and then almost dying and then being betrayed by a trusted adult is a supremely traumatic thing to go through. I sure hope they can catch a break soon.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading! If you liked this chapter or you're enjoying the story, please leave me a review. It makes my day to see that people are enjoying it and I always appreciate new ideas! Thanks!


	17. Chapter 17

Dick Grayson

The Haunt, Gotham

Sunday, September 27th, 2012

* * *

I slip off my motorcycle and tuck it behind a pile of crates, throwing my helmet on top. The garage is empty this time of night, and the closet door that hides the staircase is unlocked. A quick glance at my watch confirms I'm not running late. It's quarter to eight, so I'm right on time.

I pull open the steel door, typing in the code with my left hand. Before I learned my way around, I thought the Haunt was a giant underground complex with hundreds of rooms that I would never see all of. Then I found out that Slade designed a series of parallel hallways that stretched the perimeter of the building, which he could program to lead his victim around in circles through automatic doors. At least now he's programmed the doors to slide open manually, so that if I can make my way around on my own. There's no direct way to get to Slade's office, but if I go through the hidden door on the left wall, I can get to the hallway that connects to the actual Haunt. I still haven't been in all the rooms yet, but to my knowledge all the rooms are off of one main hallway.

The steel door to the office is closed, so I knock twice and open the door without waiting for a reply. If Slade is busy with anything or he doesn't want me to come in, the door will be locked anyway. Slade is sitting at his desk, filling out forms or something. It might be plans for a job, and I don't want any part of that. He turns around when I walk in.

"You're right on time. How did the assignment go?"

I pull my backpack off, pulling out a stapled packet of about thirty sheets thick.

"It was pretty easy once I figured out that the cameras can rotate 180." Slade nods and stands up from his chair, crossing the room to take the packet. He flips through it, his eye flickering back and forth as he examines it.

"What about this one?" He asks, holding up the page so I can see.

It's the floor plan of a building with ten rooms and two hallways connecting them in a long rectangle. There are sixteen red and blue circles representing security cameras and microphones, with circles drawn to show the area they cover.

I press my lips together in annoyance.

"You were supposed to use no more than fourteen cameras."

"I know, but the layout is really complicated and there is too much furniture in the way to be able to use one camera per room." I stifle a yawn. "Besides, there's no reason we can't just use sixteen. You can afford one more."

Slade doesn't bother to dignify that with a response. Instead, he points to a series of small rooms and asks, "Did you notice the three-quarter walls at this intersection? Or the fact that these two are closets?"

I'm an idiot.

I can replace four cameras with two and cover the same number of rooms. And closets don't need cameras when a hidden microphone will pick up any activity that might possibly occur.

"No." I admit quietly, looking at the ground. Slade had specifically told me to pay attention to those kinds of features when he assigned me the packet.

Instead of yelling at me, Slade asks, "When was the last time you slept?"

That takes me by surprise and I have to actually think for a second.

"I got four hours this morning." I don't mention the all-nighter I pulled two days ago, sitting in front of the foyer window and thinking about how close my Team came to dying. Slade closes the packet and sets it on the table that doubles as my desk.

"I think you should go get some sleep."

"What? But I thought we were going to train?"

"Richard. You are completely exhausted. Catching up on sleep is more important than training that you're half asleep for."

"Oh." I suddenly can't hold back a yawn. "That sounds pretty whelming."

Slade rolls his eye. "Do you have to butcher the English language?"

I shrug, fighting back a grin. "It's not going to butcher itself. That would be like, languicide or something."

"Go."

Slade refuses to smile but I can hear it in his voice. I think.

I throw my backpack over my shoulder and leave the office, making a left down the hallway and stopping at the fifth door on the right. It's as boring as a room could possibly be, but I have a few spare sets of workout clothes in the dresser and the training weapons I normally use are laid against the far wall. Over the past few years, this room has started to feel almost normal. Not like home, but not scary and unfamiliar either. Also, after I convinced Slade to switch out the creepy gray sheets for more normal dark blue ones, I could actually kind of feel like it's a normal room. I yawn again and throw my backpack on the ground. A few seconds later, I flop down onto the bed.

It has been a really, really long day. And a long week. Actually, it's been a long year and lately it feels like I can't do anything right no matter what I try.

But right now, the only thing I care about is not being awake anymore.

* * *

A scratching sound wakes me up. It's the sound of the door dragging on the floor as it opens. Streams of light flood into the room and I wince a little. Slade's footsteps are almost silent, but I've been around him for long enough to recognize the sound.

I blink, trying to clear my vision and sit up.

"What's going on?" I mumble, rubbing my eyes with one hand a using the other to push myself up to a sitting position.

"I've been asking too much of you," Slade says quietly as he advances towards the bed. "This will help. I've been waiting, but I believe you're ready now."

"Ready? Ready for what?" I shake my head to clear away the exhaustion crowing my vision. Faster than I can see, Slade's fingers lash out, wrapping something around my wrist and tightening it so that my hand is pulled firmly against the bedframe.

"Slade! What are you doing?!" I yelp, heart pounding a million beats an hour.

I tug on the strap, trying to free myself, but Slade's hand tightens around my other wrist, holding it in an iron grip as he crosses to the other side of the bed.

"What the hell?! Let go of me! Let- OW!" I kick the covers off and try to fight back, but he squeezes my wrist so tightly the joint almost pops and white-hot pain shoots down my arm. He fastens something to my other wrist and pulls, forcing my back flat against the mattress.

"Slade! Let me go!"

"No. This is for your own safety. I don't want you to accidentally injure yourself."

Slade secures my other wrist and straightens so that he looms over me. He holds out a syringe so I can see.

"What is that?! What's going on?!" I tug on the straps as hard as I can but they don't budge. I lean forwards, pulling until my shoulder feels like it's about to dislocate. I can't get lose! "Let me go! What are you doing?!"

Slade holds the syringe up and flicks it, shaking out the air bubbles. My heart is in my throat and no matter how hard I pull I can't get my wrists loose.

"Let me out!"

"This contains a basic enhancement formula derived from the serum that I received in the army. It is a growth stimulant that will enhance your reflexes, cognitive processes and it will make REM functions more productive. You will be able to function better with the limited amount of sleep that you get."

"No! Don't you dare put that in me!"

"It will help."

"No! Let me go! Slade!" I struggle and kick and twist but I can't do anything to stop Slade from uncapping the syringe and pressing the needle into my exposed arm.

"Stop it!" I scream but he doesn't stop.

He presses down on the plunger and the serum burns as it enters my skin. I scream, feeling it blaze through my veins and my arms start shaking and then my whole body is convulsing. My blood is on fire and burning agony blazes through my body until everything is pain and all I can see is white. My body writhes against the bed, twitching and kicking and lashing out on its own.

Slade bends low and speaks right into my ear.

"The immediate effects will wear off in a few seconds, and you'll be asleep. Unfortunately, you will be unable to formulate or retrieve memories of the event, so you won't be able to remember any of this. It's a shame. You've finally realized that Robin's time is running out, haven't you, Dick?"

I'm still gasping for breath, but just as suddenly as it started the shaking stops. The pain dissipates and my muscles feel heavy and my bones feel like they've been filled with metal. I collapse against the bed, every part of my body exhausted even though the only thing I can feel is terror.

"No. No, please. Slade. Don't." Tears run down my face and my heart is pounding as fast as it can go and the pulse keeps speeding up. "…why?"

"Why what?" Slade shakes his head. "You'll have to be more articulate than that."

The world is already starting to go fuzzy and I fight to keep my eyes open.

"Why are you… doing this?" I pant. My head throbs and the world spins and I push against the pain as hard as I can.

"Because you can be better."

"I don't… want… to…"

"It's not up to you."

Through the dizziness, his words send a cold shock all the way down my spine.

"You're not… you don't… get to…"

"Oh, but you're wrong. You are mine. That is what you agreed to when you agreed to become my apprentice."

"No."

"Yes. I can do whatever I want to you. You can't stop me. Even if you could, you won't."

"I'll… stop... you…"

"No, Richard, you won't. No matter what I do to you, no matter what I make you do, you won't ever break our deal."

"Our deal is…" my vision spins and a spike of pain rails through my head. "You train me… and I… don't… AGH… tell Batman…"

Slade laughs. It starts as a chuckle that builds and builds until his deep laughter is the only thing I can hear and I almost give in to the darkness just to get away from it.

"I've played this part too well. That's not what we agreed to. You agreed to become my apprentice, no matter what, fully understanding that you could never back out. Our deal was that you could go back to Wayne so long as you could keep it a secret."

"I'm not... your… 'prentice."

"Yes you are. And if you tell anyone about our arrangement, if you breathe a single word to anyone, any member of your precious Justice League, any of your little hero friends, or god help you to Wayne himself, I promise you will never see them again. Unless it's to kill them."

"NO!" I rear up, pulling as hard as I can but my arms still won't move. "I'll stop you!"

"Do you remember what I told you once about relying on your defense? To win, you have to keep everyone you love safe every single time. Can you do that? You're surrounded by liabilities, by my design."

What?

"…not true."

"But it is. You didn't think Wayne would just adopt a flock of children on his own, did you? Getting that street urchin to carjack the Batmobile was as easy as waving a stack of cash in his direction. Cluemaster, Cain, the Drakes, it was simple to get those pieces in place. Just like it's simple to keep you in yours."

"No!"

It's a fight against the darkness just to get that word out, but it's a fight I'm losing. Everything I see if blurry and it's getting worse by the second. There's a shroud of exhaustion settling over my brain, pushing me under no matter how hard I fight. Slade's voice sounds a million miles away but that doesn't stop the horror from reaching all the way through.

"Tell me, Richard, could you live with it? If you broke our deal, could you go on knowing that someone you loved died because of you?"

"...no!"

"You can't protect everyone. Even if I can't get at your siblings, you have so many friends. Barbara. Roy. Your teammates. Most of them have families too. Can you keep them all safe?"

* * *

My eyes slide open before the rest of my brain wakes up. Unlike every other morning that I can remember, it's not a battle to wake up. Just, one second I was asleep, the next I was awake. No exhaustion, no problems.

I sit up, stretching my arms over my head and yawning deeply. I feel… really good. Slade was right. Catching up on sleep was a good idea.

Heh. Maybe I should do it more often.

* * *

Gotham Academy

Monday, September 28th, 2012

* * *

The whistle blows, silencing my entire gym class.

"All right, boys and girls, it's back by popular demand!"

The members of the football and soccer teams grin while the rest of the class groans, dreading the next words.

"Dodgeball!" Mrs. Arden cheers, hoisting the sack of red rubber balls into the air.

Beside me, Babs lets out a frustrated groan, burying her head in her hands.

"It's first period and I can't handle this right now." She mumbles, tugging at her hair. An elbow tapping against my side interrupts me before I can figure out how to respond.

"What do you think, Dick? You up for a 'rousing' game of dodgeball against the gods of sports themselves?" Josh asks.

I snort, "I don't know who actually asked to play dodgeball, and they better hope I don't find out."

"What are you going to do? Recite mathematical formulas at them until their brain cells explode?" Josh laughs. "You know, that would probably work."

"Hey," Babs rears her head up suddenly, "What do you think is in there?"

She points across the gym to two janitors hauling long boxes to the supply closets against the far wall. A tall man wearing a cotton t-shirt, sweat pants and a bright orange visitor sticker interrupts one of the janitors and sets the box on the ground. He opens it, pulling out a silvery stick that reaches from the floor to his stomach. I recognize it instantly, despite the fact that the ones I normally use are solid metal with a retractable Taser on the end.

By now, other kids in my class have taken notice.

"Mrs. Arden," Isabel Becker calls from within the noxious cloud of perfume she always wears, "What are they doing?"

Mrs. Arden looks startled at being interrupted from her lengthy explanation of the intricacies of dodgeball, but she turns around to look.

"Oh, that!" she responds cheerfully, "The gym department won a big grant from the state for our excellent performance on the fitness testing, and we decided to add some exciting skills to the curriculum. Those long sticks are called 'bow-staffs,' and they are ancient Chinese weapons."

"Oh goody. Fitness testing." Josh mutters.

"Can't I just fail gym instead?" I whisper back.

"The sophomores and juniors will get the opportunity to be taught by a real expert. It's so interesting." Mrs. Arden continues.

"Mrs. Arden? Can we do that instead?" Isabel calls again. A couple other kids nod and agree with her. Babs snorts.

"It could be funny," she whispers, "Or maybe you can ask if they'll let you fight him. That guy doesn't look like he expects to actually do anything. You should show him up."

We laugh together, and I whisper, "Can you imagine what Bruce would say if the school called about my miraculous talent with a bo staff?"

"I dare you."

"What? No."

"Double-dog dare you."

"Babs!"

"Triple-dog dare you and I'll buy you a cookie."

"I can get my own cookies, thank you very much."

"What are we daring him to do?" Josh pokes his head in.

"Nothing." I say.

"Challenge the guy to an epic bo-staff battle." Babs whispers. Josh grins from ear to ear.

"Do it!"

"No!"

"Look, he's only twice your size. Easy takedown." Josh says.

I roll me eyes. Josh is kidding but he doesn't know he's right. Unless this guy is also a superhero in disguise, I can kick his ass.

"Come on!"

"Why not?"

"First of all, I don't want to. Second, I'm actually a trained professional with a staff. There's not an actual accreditation board, but Bruce made sure I'd be able to pass if there was. I just don't need the whole school to know about it."

"The bo staff accreditation board?" Josh raises an eyebrow.

"And third," I continue like I didn't hear him, "The author has written a lot of fight scenes lately and she'd probably just start crying if she had to write another because I decided to challenge some random guy to a fight."

"It's high school! Nobody cares what you do here!" Babs retorts.

"Nobody?"

"Wait, wait, can we go back to the part about the author and fight scenes?" Josh asks.

"What about it?" I ask.

"What author?"

"The author." Babs says in a "no-duh" kind of voice.

"Yeah, of what?"

"The story of our lives," I shrug. "I don't know Josh, I was making a weird, meta, fourth-wall break kind of joke. I thought it'd be funny. It didn't actually mean anything."

"I like that you assume the author of your own personal story is a woman." Babs grins.

"At least you thought it was kind of funny."

"I didn't say that."

"Well, it doesn't matter, because we're playing dodgeball anyway."

"You doubt me." Babs sticks her tongue out at me before raising her hand. Mrs. Arden is trying her best to get the dodgeball game started, while the rest of my class exercises the sheer apathy that only a group of sleep-deprived teenagers sentenced to gym class can manage.

"Yes, Ms. Gordon?"

"How often are we going to have the opportunity to watch a real expert? We can play dodgeball any time we want to. This could be a really valuable experience for us in the long run." Her voice drips with false enthusiasm, but Mrs. Arden can't argue with her logic, and she's had enough of trying to wrangle teenagers. She huffs, her blonde curls bouncing around her head.

"Fine. I'll go talk to him and see if we can arrange something."

Babs and Josh high-five, happy to avoid playing the humiliating and boring game of dodgeball. Most of the other kids in the class seem genuinely interested, even some of the girls who generally hate any form of physical activity. A few of the jocks look annoyed, but they quickly get back to shoving each other and making stupid jokes.

Personally, I don't care what we do. Gym class is such huge waste of time, and I have so much stuff to do today that I would give anything to have a free period. I'm already losing two hours this afternoon because the third graders have an orchestra concert tonight and I promised Tim I would go see him. I was supposed to train with the Team this afternoon, but I'm sure Bruce will let me stay home and study for my Biology test instead. Dr. Philips loves to include really obscure questions on his tests, so I have to know all the material that he ever mentioned this week in order to get an A.

It's going to be another long week.

"Alright guys. So, Mrs. Arden here told me that you wanted to learn a little bit about the bo-staff, so I'm going to give you guys a little demonstration. Does anyone have anything they want to know before I do that?"

"Do it!" Babs hisses. I roll my eyes.

* * *

My cell phone buzzes and I look down. Ms. Hayne is in the middle of her powerpoint about the early Renaissance, so she won't notice.

It's a text from Wally.

'_Why did the turkey cross the road?'_

Classic Wally with the godawful jokes. I snort and type back, '_…'_

It takes a few seconds for my phone to buzz again. Wally sent me a picture of a turkey standing in the middle of the road in front of his mom's car.

'_He didn't. He's an asshole and just stood in front of the car for five minutes.'_

I have to put a hand over my mouth to stifle my laughter. I can just picture Wally in the passenger seat, vibrating impatiently for the bird to move so that he can get somewhere ten times slower than it would have taken him to run.

'_Why are you coming to school at 10:30?'_

'_Doctor's appointment'_

'_Lucky. B never lets me miss school for an appointment.'_

'_What do you expect from him?'_

'_That he'd fight the turkey with his bare hands if he thought it would help me get to school on time.'_

'_pft. Thanks for that mental image.'_

' _no problem ;)_

'_You coming to MJ today?'_

MJ is the very-not-at-all subtle code for Mount Justice.

'_Can't. Bio test tomorrow :( '_

'_Dude… that's the third one you've missed this month.'_

'_I know. But you know how B is. Plus, Tim has a concert tonight and we're all going.'_

'_Tell him good luck!'_

* * *

Wayne Manor

* * *

The bo-staff twirls around my hand, the familiar weight settling in my palm when I stop it. I spin, whirling the staff around my head and slamming it into the ground. I step back, spinning the staff around my shoulders and moving my head around so that it can continue twirling. I snatch it up in one hand and swing it at my shoulder height before crouching and swinging it low enough to scrape over the ground. Twirling the staff up my arm, I straighten and flick my wrist out so it's spinning over my head. I take two steps forwards and slam the staff into the ground before whirling and striking the air.

There's nothing like a quick workout to recover from four hours of studying biology. A breeze blows through the yard and I shiver. A sweater might have been a good idea in retrospect, but once I get moving, I'll warm up.

"Hey Goldie, think fast!"

Even without Jason's shout, I see the apple hurtling towards my head. Throwing the bo-staff in the air, I spin and hold out my hand. The small but dense apple smacks against my palm with a satisfying "_smack." _I hold out the other hand and catch the bo-staff as it drops.

"Thought you looked hungry," Jason smirks while trying to look cool. He's wearing his favorite leather jacket but Cassie is sitting on his shoulders and patting his head like a drum, which kind of ruins whatever tough-guy image he was going for.

"That's very ciderate of you, Jay."

"Ugh, speak English. Your stupid made-up words don't make sense."

"Of course they do. You're just not smart enough to appreciate it." I take a big bite of the apple and grin mockingly. Cassie lets out a peal of laughter as Jason sticks his tongue out at me. She sticks her own tongue out and spits, trying to blow a raspberry. Jason cringes as spit lands on his face and he rubs at it with his hands.

"Cassie, your tongue is supposed to stay in your mouth." I tease, dropping the bo-staff near a tree-stump and moving closer to the two of them.

"Or what?" She giggles with her tongue still hanging out. Jason and I exchange glances.

"Or… Killer Croc is going to bite it off!" I shout, clapping my hands together in front of her face. She shrieks and slams her heels into Jason's chest.

"Noo!" She cries and Jason lunges towards me.

"I'll save you, Cassie!" He shouts, tackling me to the ground. Somehow, the three of us end up on the ground in a pile. Cassie manages to detangle herself, but Jason is flailing around on the ground while trying to put me in a chokehold. Careful not to let the apple touch the ground, I grab Jason's arm, readjust my legs and flip him over. My elbow presses against his neck, not hard enough to hurt, but he struggles anyway. I take a bite of my apple and smirk.

"Looks like Killer Croc won this round." I joke. Suddenly, something whacks against the back of my head, and Jason uses the opportunity to throw me off.

"I save Jay!" Cassie crows, my bo-staff clenched in her tiny hands. It's almost twice as long as she is, but she wields it proudly. Until the winds pulls it sharply to the side and she almost falls over. Jason scoops her up so that she's closer to my height, placing a hand on the bo-staff to help steady it.

"Me and Cassie against you! You're going down, Goldie!" Jason taunts. I roll my eyes but get into a fighting stance anyways.

Jason charges forwards while Cassie shrieks with laughter. I watch the bo-staff swing towards my head and I wait. When it's two inches away, I block with my right arm, grab the staff, twist and pull it away from my siblings. I step back, twirling the staff around my hand in a figure-eight.

"Why do you call me that, anyway? Is it like Goldie-Locks?" I ask while Jason pouts. "Because I'm not sure if you knew this, but my hair isn't exactly gold."

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Jason sneers.

"Uh, yeah, that's why I asked."

Cassie tugs on his ear and whispers something to him. He looks down at her.

"You really think we should tell him?"

Cassie nods emphatically. Jason sighs, stepping forwards conspiratorially.

"Alright, Goldie, the truth is... YOU'RE IT!"

Cassie whacks me hard in the forehead with her hand and then Jason sprints away. So much for studying biology.

By the time Bruce comes outside, tag has devolved into helping Cassie build a dirt castle in the flower beds. It's like a sand castle except it's made of dirt, falls apart almost immediately, and makes Cassie laugh like a maniac every time it does. Stephanie is riding on his back, wearing her martial arts uniform and a huge grin. Looks like Bruce picked her up from karate today.

"It looks like you're all having fun, but you all need to get cleaned up. We're leaving in half-an hour for Tim's concert."

"Daddy! I save Jay!" Cassie exclaims proudly. Bruce smiles at her.

"That's because you're incredible."

Cassie beams. Bruce's smile gets even wider. Jason takes a picture on his phone.

"For blackmail." He whispers to me, "In case we need proof that the goddamn Batman smiled once."

"Language, Jason." Bruce reprimands, hoisting Cassie onto his shoulders. Jason smirks with absolutely no sign of remorse.

"You know, they say he's more bat than man at this point," I nudge Jason with my elbow, "That he's nocturnal, hears like a bat, and he even hangs upside down from a stalactite when he sleeps."

"Very funny, Dick." Bruce shakes his head.

"Hey, I told you about that cop, right? Officer Collins?"

"Who's that?" Stephanie chirps.

"He's a police officer. The one who followed me around for four months because he wanted to know if Batman was really a human-bat hybrid mutant."

"Hmm," Bruce looks vaguely amused, "I don't remember that."

"You wouldn't," I assure him, "He kept his suspicions under pretty close wraps."

I shake my head at Steph and mouth, _'No he didn't.'_ Steph giggles.

"If you're done making jokes at my expense, go take a shower." Bruce grins. "I don't even want to imagine the PTA call I'll get if I let you show up to the concert wearing all the dirt in the yard."

He gets four innocent smiles in response to that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dick is having a hard time right now, but it's good that he has his friends and family to take his mind off everything that's going on. Unfortunately for him, he's got not idea what's really going on under the surface, and it's a lot harder to stop something when you don't have any idea that it's happening...


	18. Chapter 18

Artemis Crock

Mount Justice

Saturday, October 2nd, 2012

* * *

Artemis started when the holographic display lit up the floor.

"Alright. Now, everyone, pay attention. We have a lot to cover today and I only have a minute to do it," Black Canary instructed from the middle of the training floor.

"Why? Is there a supervillain summit that you have to break up? A giant robot attacking the city? A radioactive lizard monster from Japan that wants our donuts?" Wally asked. He and Robin shared a grin at the thought.

"No," Black Canary responded, "I was referring to your relatively short attention spans."

Robin, Wally and Kaldur laughed at her response, and Artemis suddenly got the feeling she was missing an inside joke. But the usual feeling of jealousy was missing today. After the last mission, finding out Kaldur knew that there was a mole and having the team almost fall apart from it, Artemis was more than happy to miss out on a few jokes. Anything was better than being at each other's throats and it was obvious everyone else felt the same way.

As Canary began explaining the day's exercises, Artemis' mind kept wandering. She trusted Kaldur. If he hadn't told them the truth because he thought it would just make them paranoid, then the lie was justified. He was right to think it would happen, because it did.

As much as it stung to know that Kaldur had been suspicious of her, she got it. Between Jade, her dad and her mom's old life, Artemis should've been on the other side. Well screw that. Being one of the good guys was so much better. She worked for the freaking Justice League! She'd met Superman, fought giant tigers, traveled across the world, and found a group of friends like she'd never had before.

Most of the time, being a superhero was really fun.

"Artemis, you're with Superboy. Remember what we talked about with your reliance on aggression."

Ugh. As long as that didn't happen.

She walked onto the floor anyways and settled into a fighting stance. Across from her, Conner did the same.

"Want to try number three?" Conner asked.

"Sure." Artemis answered, stretching her neck and shoulders in preparation for the sparring routine.

They moved together.

Superboy lunged out first with a punch at chest height. Artemis slid to the side and followed up with a spinning hook kick. Superboy caught her leg with his elbow and put his hand just above her knee. She jumped as he used the hold to throw her backwards, giving her the momentum to roll when she hit the ground. She popped back up to her feet and they approached each other.

Again, they moved at the same time. Superboy punched and she blocked it with her forearm, redirecting the momentum. With the opening, she swung her elbow across his face and spun with the movement, finishing with a back-kick to his chest. Superboy stumbled backwards, but got his arms up in time to block Artemis' next strike. He kicked out and she jumped over his leg, but his swing caught her across the chest. She managed to keep her balance but now Superboy had the advantage.

He jumped into the air, reaching fifteen feet before plummeting back down. Artemis dove out of the way, ending up behind him. She kicked at the back of his knee and dropped him onto one leg. Superboy reared back as she kicked again, hitting her foot with enough force to knock her over. They jumped up at the same time and the fight continued.

They traded blows. Artemis got some good hits in, but the more she blocked, the more her arms hurt. And Superboy had started bracing against her kicks, so she couldn't get a strong enough attack in. She lunged forwards, aiming a punch at his midsection. He was ready.

The next thing Artemis knew, his foot hooked around her ankle and her momentum— plus a strong push— hurled her to the ground.

"Fail. Artemis B-07." The computer announced.

"Wow. What a shocker." She muttered in response to the computer, accepting his outstretched hand to be pulled back onto her feet. Conner shrugged, doing his best not to look smug and failing pretty badly.

"You didn't do that badly."

"Thanks, Conner. That really means a lot." She teased, rolling her eyes. He grinned back at her. Black Canary pulled up the hologram depicting their sparring match.

"Good work, both of you. Conner's right, Artemis. You did a very good job." She turned to the rest of the team, "Now can anyone tell me where Artemis went wrong?"

Robin's hand shot into the air. "She had to spar with Superboy!"

Kid Flash snickered. Black Canary beat her to a response.

"Very funny. You of all people should know how important it is to train against opponents that are much stronger than you, Robin. In a real battle, the experience could give you the slightest advantage to defeat or stall a stronger opponent until help can arrive."

"You sound like Batman." Robin teased.

"Well, Batman is right." She crossed her arms and grinned. "Now can you actually answer the question please?"

"She let him get too many hits in. She should have taken advantage of the fact that Superboy always waits before he throws a punch to get out of the way."

"I don't!" Superboy retorted, crossing his arms angrily.

"Except you do." Robin raised a finger towards the hologram, swiping backwards to rewind the video a few seconds. "Right here. You pull back your fist here, but it's another half second before you actually punch. That's enough time for Artemis to duck, move back or land a blow like she did right there. You're still telegraphing everything."

Artemis couldn't help but smile when the recording shows her spinning under Superboy's arm and landing a kick on his solar-plexus.

"Good." Canary said, turning to the team again. "Learning to read your opponent's movements is something I want you all to work on. If you can see what the enemy wants to do, you can react and counter it."

Kid Flash raises his hand in the air. "So, and this is purely theoretical, if someone tries to go against a much stronger opponent, like Rob facing off against Superman, would there be anything that he could do or would he basically just be bird food? Ow!"

Robin glowered after slapping his friend on the arm. "I know how to fight against someone stronger than me. I spar with Batman every day."

"So you think you could take on Superman?"

"I'd do better against him than you could. At least I'm not in danger of tripping myself."

"Dude! I could totally last longer than you in a fight. And I would definitely beat her time against Superboy."

He jerked a finger towards Artemis and she snapped, "Oh yeah, Kid Mouth? Prove it!"

"Fine!" Kid Flash retorted before turning to Superboy. "Don't feel too bad about losing to me."

Superboy rolled his eyes and exchanged a look with Aqualad before moving back onto the mat.

"Just try not to get hurt too badly." Superboy smirked. "Hey Canary, can we make this a little more fun?"

"I don't see why not." Their trainer responded, typing into the holographic console. Sections of the floor randomly began to rise and fall, creating a landscape of crevices and hills and general obstacles to navigate.

"This will be more fun." Kid Flash joked, "Although this match is as good as over."

He was right. Kid Flash had the advantage at first, getting several hits in rapid succession, but he couldn't knock Superboy out of his stance. He zipped back and forth, using the landscape to hit different spots. He did well until Superboy figured out which sections of floor would move, and then it was a different match entirely. He dodged some hits and let some of the others make contact, but it was clear he had a plan. Artemis and Miss Martian giggled when Superboy maneuvered Kid Flash into stepping on an ascending tile and he tripped face-first, definitively ending the match.

The computer announced. "Fail. Kid Flash B-03."

"Good try." Superboy offered, helping Kid Flash pull his foot out from between a section of uneven tiles.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll beat you next time." He retorted humorously. Robin snickered and Artemis laughed with him.

"Alright, guys. Let's hear it," Black Canary announced.

"Kid Flash was faster and landed more hits, but they didn't do enough to throw Superboy off balance. Superboy also had an easier time navigating the field. The terrain put Kid Flash at a big disadvantage." Artemis said.

"It was unfair to change the environment. It gave Superboy a huge advantage." Miss Martian told Black Canary, but Kid Flash shook his head.

"Nah, I should have been paying more attention."

"You can't always control the battleground." Aqualad added.

"Anyway, I want to see Robin beat that time." Kid Flash joked, leaning against Superboy who shook his head in exasperation but let him do it.

"What, ninety seconds? That's not even hard." Robin retorted. Artemis rolled her eyes at the boys, but Robin seemed serious.

Was he actually going to try it? Sparring practice was one thing, but that wasn't what they were betting on. Superboy was no pushover (literally) and she had the bruises to prove it. This was a terrible idea.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Black Canary asked doubtfully. Apparently, Canary agreed with Artemis.

"Oh yeah. Besides, I'm smaller and faster than he is. He won't be able to touch me."

The Team exchanged worried and dubious glances, but the thirteen-year-old refused to budge. Miss Martian bit her lip. Robin met her gaze and nodded, giving her an easy smile.

"Alright." Black Canary agreed hesitantly, resetting the training floor to its normal conditions. They waited for the training pad to return to normal before walking out. Conner settled into a fighting stance, but Robin just nodded his head.

"Whenever you're ready," he called.

Canary nodded, and the fight started. Conner threw the first punch, not surprised when Robin side-stepped. He swung again, holding back the majority of his strength and again, Robin moved away. They both froze for a few seconds, watching each other. Then Robin moved forwards and Superboy let a fist fly right towards Robin's face. The Boy Wonder moved like lighting, leaping off the ground and flipping. Hands pressed down on Superboy's outstretched arm and then Robin was behind him. A hard kick slammed into the back of his neck and he stumbled forwards. He blinked, whirling around to face the acrobat. Robin was standing in a fighting stance, a smile on his face.

Robin was enjoying this, Artemis realized. He wasn't worried at all. Superboy seemed to realize the same thing, because he rushed forward at full speed. Robin dodged the next series of blows, dancing away from the punches before they had a chance to get near him.

It was incredible. Artemis couldn't count the number of times she thought Conner was about to land a devastating hit only to have Robin dance away.

Conner lunged forwards, swinging his fist in a wide arc. Almost too quickly for her to follow, Robin leaped forwards so that he was parallel to the ground, grabbed Superboy's arm like a bar and swung himself forwards. His heavy boots slammed into the side of Superboy's face while his momentum carried him in a flip around the Kryptonian's arm. Superboy was pulled backwards by the full weight of his opponent, his head going to one side while his arm was dragged the other way and his entire body twisted with Robin's. Superboy landed hard on his stomach with a crash. Robin landed on Superboy's back, still holding his arm in a tight lock. The cave fell silent. Artemis' jaw dropped and she blinked dumbly, trying to process what she had just seen. M'gann and Kaldur gasped in unison. Wally let out a choked, "Dude!"

Out of the corner of her eye, Artemis saw Black Canary's hand fly up to cover her mouth in shock.

Robin just took down Superboy. A thirteen-year-old with no superpowers beat a Kryptonian. Behind her, she could almost feel Kaldur and Wally's surprise, and no small feeling of awe. Robin released the arm and patted Conner on the back. Then he pushed himself back onto his feet and reached down to his teammate, who was gingerly turning himself over.

"It's like I said, Conner," Robin said, holding out a hand to help Superboy up, "Taking down bigger guys is part of the gig."

Superboy grinned good-naturedly and accepted the hand.

"I didn't think you meant me," he muttered and Robin cackled.

"Hey, live and learn."

Kid Flash sped over.

"Dude! That was awesome!"

"Yes it was," Canary added, putting a hand on her hip. "It looks like you've been holding out on us, Robin."

"You have definitely earned your title, Boy Wonder," Kaldur complimented and Robin blushed.

"Can anybody tell me something that Superboy did wrong?" Black Canary asked the team.

"He failed to adjust to his opponent's strategy," Kaldur said, looking at Superboy apologetically.

"Partially correct," their teacher responded, "Superboy did recognize that certain attack patterns were not working, and he adjusted for that. However, Robin was fighting defensively and patiently. He knew that a single hit could end the match, so he based his strategy on not getting hit. Superboy should have recognized his advantage and fully utilized it. That being said, both of you had excellent form, and I can see a lot of improvement."

* * *

Dick Grayson

Wayne Manor

* * *

The doorbell rings and Alfred nods appreciatively at their punctuality.

"I'll get it!" Steph and Timmy call at the same time before sprinting out of the room at the same time, trying to beat the other in their race. Cassie waddles after them with the considerable speed of a five-year-old ninja.

I hear them argue all the way to the front door about who gets to open it and I can't stifle the laugh. I set down the last fork as Alfred places a pot on the table with a proper flourish. The smell of chicken and herbs fills the dining room and my mouths waters. My stomach lets out a loud rumble. Jason must have been even hungrier because he's risking Alfred's wrath by scrounging through the cabinets, just out of the kitchen's line of sight.

He digs into a box of crackers and the temptation grows. Alfred wouldn't notice if I just had one, would he?

Alfred straightens, dusting imaginary dirt off his hands.

"Now, if Master Jason would kindly remove himself from the pantry, I believe we are all set."

Jason freezes like a deer in the headlights and I resist the urge to cackle again. It's not about being a mature older brother, it's that making fun of him will lead to him tackling me and then we'll both lose dessert even if it wasn't my fault. When Alfred makes chocolate cake, you don't take chances like that.

"It smells amazing, Alfred!" Uncle Clark compliments as he walks into the dining room with a bowl of salad and three of my siblings hanging off his shoulders and arms.

"I hope we're not late," Aunt Diana adds, holding out a bouquet of flowers. Sheepishly, the Amazonian princess admits, "I wasn't sure what to bring. After last time, I thought it was safer not to bring food."

"No bad bwownies!" Cassie cheers from her perch on Clark's right shoulder.

"I liked them!" Stephanie is quick to defend her idol, hanging upside down with her arms and legs wrapped around his left arm.

"You like everything Auntie Diana makes, Steph. You'd eat haggis if she brought it," Timmy points out matter-of-factly, latched onto the Kryptonian's back.

"What's haggis?" Steph asks, scratching at her blonde hair that hangs freely off her head.

"It's a Scottish delicacy made of a sheep's heart, liver and lungs that's cooked in the lining of a stomach," Clark tells her, trying not to smile when she immediately begins to gag dramatically. He catches my eye and winks. I smile back, but guilt bubbles in my chest. Conner can't get even a minute of Superman's attention, while he's here having dinner with my family. Clark has to at least acknowledge the fact the Conner exists. He might be a clone, but he's a hero and he's my friend.

Alfred must have relieved her of the flowers, because Aunt Diana comes over and gives me a hug. I hug her back. Her grip is strong but it feels really nice. In a lot of ways, she's the closest thing I've had to a mom since I was eight. It's always kind of strange to be around Superman and Wonder Woman. The first time I met them was as Clark Kent and Diana Prince less than a month after I came to Wayne Manor. They were Aunt Diana and Uncle Clark from the beginning. Now, as a (sort of) member of the Justice League, they're older heroes to respect and look up to. When I'm Robin, I can't bug my Uncle Clark to take me to a baseball game over the weekend or beg Aunt Diana to let me ride in her invisible jet. None of my teammates have the same kind of relationship with them. Not even Kaldur, Wally or Roy.

I was the first sidekick; that came with a few perks. But Conner would be so jealous, and everyone else would probably be jealous too if they knew.

"Dinah tells me you've been improving a lot," Diana confides. My heart pounds, but I shrug nonchalantly.

"She's a good teacher, I'm a quick study, it's fun to make everyone else look bad. Take your pick." I toss out a few excuses. It sounds like she's just paying me a complement, but there's also a chance she's trying to figure out where those skills are coming from. She rolls her eyes at my wide-eyed grin, but she doesn't look suspicious.

"I see."

My stomach turns and I take that second to call, "Jay! Come say hi."

Jason glances at the table longingly but shuffles over.

"Hi."

"Sorry about him. He hasn't eaten in two minutes."

"So his empty stomach prevents me from getting a decent greeting?" She teases. Jason shrugs. After a second, he darts in for a quick hug, then pulls back like it never happened. God forbid he ruins his cool guy image.

"Master Bruce should be joining us shortly. In the meantime if you would all release Mister Kent's limbs, I'm sure he would be most appreciative."

"Awww!" Timmy complains.

"Do we have to?" Steph whines.

"It's alright, guys. I'll take you for a ride after dinner, if it's okay with Alfred," Clark offers. Immediately, four pairs of eyes point at him with laser like focus.

"I will defer to Master Bruce."

"Defer what to me?" Bruce asks, stuffing his cell phone into his pocket.

"If Uncle Clark can give us a ride after dinner!" Steph cuts in before Alfred can answer.

"Do you want him to?" Bruce asks her seriously and she nods excitedly, her head bobbing up and down.

Bruce turns to Clark with an exasperated eye roll.

"You're trying to steal them from me, aren't you?"

"He would never," Diana laughs, flipping her hand in front of Clark's face. She puts her arm around Bruce's shoulders, adding, "Because I'm going to steal them first."

"Alright, alright, enough banter it's food time!" Jason interrupts, pounding his fists into the table.

"Foo!" Cassie squeals, slamming her hands into the table in imitation. Timmy, Steph and I all look at Bruce imploringly.

Bruce shrugs, "It looks like we've been overruled."

It takes some maneuvering, but finally everyone is sitting down, tearing ravenously into the salad and fresh bread.

"How's school going?" Clark asks. "Dick, you just started high school, right?"

"Yup. It's fine."

"You like your classes?"

"Eh."

"I like my classes!" Timmy exclaims.

"You only have one class, Timbo." Jason rolls his eyes.

"Jason…" Bruce says. Jason huffs.

"Sorry, Tim."

"Miss Garra is the best! She makes us cookies every Friday 'cause we have an oven in the room!"

"It's not fair!" Steph whines. "My class never gets any cookies but our classroom is across the hall so every Friday we have to smell them but we don't get any!"

"That is unfair. If one class gets cookies, every class should get some kind of treat." Clark agrees.

"Why does your classroom have an oven?" Diana asks, brow lowered in confusion.

"I dunno." Timmy shrugs.

"Our school used to be a middle school," Steph explains. "But then it got turned into an elementary school and everything got changed around. One of the upstairs bathrooms used to have a shower."

"Oh yeah, I remember that shower!" Jason grins through a mouthful of lettuce and cucumbers. "Mikey and I dared Ally to turn the water on and she flooded the hallway!"

"And then they had an assembly for the whole school to yell at us for being irresponsible," I add. "Didn't they get her on video?"

"Yup! They called her to the principal's office over the loudspeaker. You should have seen her, it was awesome. Mr. Rabil was yelling at her and trying to get her to confess and she started crying that it was an accident and she couldn't figure out how to turn it off and they let her off the hook completely. It was hilarious!"

He looks up to see Bruce, Aunt Diana and Uncle Clark giving him matching expression, with one eyebrow raised in a 'you want to try that again?' look. I decide to get him off the hook, mainly because when it happened, their stunt plus the mandatory assembly got me an extra weekend to study for a math test. That story is part of Gotham Primary Academy's lore. Jason is lucky Bruce doesn't know that the water ended up flooding the downstairs music room and some kids in my year brought down rubber ducks and had duck races.

Another reason to help him out; I won nine dollars in one of the races.

"Didn't Ally transfer to theater school?" I ask.

"No, she got cast as the stand-in for Annie on Broadway," Jason beams. "She says the principal's office was her big debut."

That gets a laugh, and the tension is gone. But judging from the look in Bruce's eye, the statute of limitations for that event is nowhere near expired. For now, though, Uncle Clark is happy to answer Tim's sudden peppering of questions about the tsunami he stopped over Sri Lanka. Alfred has barely taken the lid off the chicken when my phone suddenly buzzes in my pocket.

I pull it out surreptitiously and check it under the table. It's a short text with just the number '8.' And it's from Slade.

Shit.

I'm doomed. Oh, this is a disaster, heavy on the dis. My heart skips a beat and I stuff the phone back into my pocket.

"Um… can I be excused for a second?" I ask.

After a moment of suspicious silence, Bruce nods slowly. I push my chair back and make my way to the bathroom, trying not to break into a run. This is bad. I totally forgot that training with Slade was tonight. With Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman- not to mention Alfred- here's no way I can go without being caught. With shaking fingers, I type, "Aunt and Uncle here. Can we reschedule?"

The next few minutes pass at a snail's pace. My heart pounds and my feet retrace their steps across the tile floor and back. I'm such an idiot. How could I have forgotten? I'm about to pull my hair out when the phone finally buzzes again.

"Friday at 7. 4 hours."

I exhale, letting all the stale air out of my lungs. Catastrophe avoided. I breathe slowly, trying to get my heart rate back down to a normal beat. I run my fingers through my hair to smooth it down which normally helps me calm down. When I go back to the table, everyone is going to want to know what happened. With his super-hearing, Uncle Clark definitely knows my cellphone went off. He'll have told Bruce— who hates cellphones at the table— and then Bruce will want to know what happened.

What am I going to tell them?

_Sorry about that, guys, but I had to reschedule my secret mercenary training because I forgot you two were coming over and now there's no way I can sneak out._

Yeah, that would go over well. Oh god, what am I going to tell them? My mind is racing but I can't come up with a decent excuse. I glance down at my phone, scrolling through my messages when Artemis' name catches my eye. I click on it, opening our text conversation. The last time she texted me, she wanted help with her calculus homework. Somehow, I misread it and panicked because I thought "a part five" was "apartment fire." I figured it out pretty quickly, but it's perfect for right now. I walk in front of the mirror and put on my best sheepish face. I take a deep breath, open the bathroom door and make my way down the hall back to the dining room. When I enter, the noise cuts out and everyone looks at me.

"Is everything okay?" Bruce asks, his concern obvious.

I scratch the back of my neck and laugh in embarrassment.

"Yeah, false alarm actually. I misread Arty's text and… well… the good news is that her apartment isn't actually on fire. Sorry about that."

"It happens to the best of us," Uncle Clark says diplomatically. "You wouldn't believe some of the Freudian slips you hear when you're interviewing someone. There was one time with Steven Hawking—"

"Who do Amazons get married to?" Steph asks suddenly, interrupting Clark mid-sentence. He stops dead and blinks at her. Aunt Diana coughs into her hand, but it's the worst pretending-not-to-laugh cough I've ever heard. The knot in my stomach fades as any remaining suspicion disappears. Steph couldn't have come up with a better distraction if she'd been trying.

"Um, I don't…" Uncle Clark tries to answer.

"I thought they married each other," Timmy says, frowning in confusion. Cassie laughs and claps her hands together.

"Mawwied mawwied!"

"Some of them do," Aunt Diana says, mimicking Uncle Clark's diplomatic tone while fighting to keep her smile down. "Although many Amazons don't get married at all. However, my mother's decision to loosen the borders may change that."

"I want to marry an Amazon!" Tim declares.

Jason and I snort.

"Whoever you choose to marry will be very lucky," Aunt Diana smiles adoringly.

"I wanna marry an Amazon too!" Steph announces. Uncle Clark coughs into his drink. Jason and I snort even harder.

"Nobody is marrying anybody for quite some time," Alfred intervenes smoothly. "Given that, I believe the particulars can be saved for another day. Might I suggest that in the meantime, you all adjourn to the living room while I set up dessert?"

"Or…" Aunt Diana suggests in a sing-song voice, "I did bring the invisible jet."

"Can we?!"

"So long as you bring them all back," Bruce warns with a lightness that means he's kidding. Aunt Diana winks and Jason, Tim and Steph charge out of the dining room.

"You're not going with them?" Bruce asks.

I shake my head. "I'm kind of maxed out on flying things right now."

There's only so long I want to be cooped up on a ship, and between the cross-country and international flights on the bioship, I'm good. Plus, the Invisible Jet doesn't have that many seats and it gets really cramped fast. Bruce picks up Cassie from her high chair and Uncle Clark and I follow them to the main living room. Cassie and I play patty-cake on the couch while Bruce and Clark settle into armchairs, discussing some article Lois wrote. It's not long before Cassie starts yawning and her eyes start drooping. She crawls onto my lap and curls up, playing with the strings of my sweatshirt with tiny fingers.

"Uh… Bruce? A little help here?" I ask a few minutes later, when she's totally asleep and my legs are going numb. Bruce looks over and apparently the sight of Cassie sleeping on me is one of those special moments that puts a real, tender smile on his face.

Bruce picks Cassie up gently, and she stirs long enough to look up at him blearily. "Bedtime, princess."

She nods once and her head falls forwards against his chest. Uncle Clark smiles as they leave the room, then he goes back to his magazine. I frown.

I have to say something to him. It's the perfect time. But how do I say it?

I cross my arms and lean back in my chair. Uncle Clark fidgets with his glasses before looking up from the magazine, grinning at me in his classic, "I'm a mild-mannered reporter don't worry about me" look. I let out a huff.

"You're being an asshole." I say bluntly.

Uncle Clark frowns, his lips pinching together into a thin line. He doesn't respond.

"What do you have against him? Sure, I get it! It sucks that Cadmus stole your DNA and made a clone of you without your consent. That's really high on the list of things that aren't okay. But don't take it out on Conner! He didn't have any more say in this than you did."

"I know that you're trying to help, but you really don't understand the situation."

"So explain it to me."

"Dick, please, not now."

"Why not now?! You're just going to keep ignoring him if nobody says anything!"

"Dick…"

"No! Conner is my friend and he deserves better! He's smart and funny and a hard worker and he just wants to get to know you! But you don't know any of that because you've never even bothered to try!"

A weird look crosses his face. It's a mix of frustration and hesitancy but at the end, there's a narrowing in his eyes that means he's found a lead that whoever he's interviewing let something slip that they didn't mean to.

"Fine." He says, leaning forwards, suddenly all-business. "I will sit down with Conner and try to get to know him. If..."

I roll my eyes. Of course he wants something.

"If… you tell me who texted you during dinner."

Oh shit.

"W… what are you talking about? I already told you."

"Dick. I can hear your heartbeat. I know what it sounds like when you're lying, and I know what it sounds like when you're on the verge of a panic attack. You want to take a wild guess which of those I've heard tonight?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." I deny, painfully aware that my racing heartbeat couldn't make the lie more obvious.

Uncle Clark doesn't say anything. He just looks at me carefully like I'm about to give him the key to cracking a big story.

"If you don't want to tell me, I won't make you. But I don't want to hear another word about the clone. Alright?"

"No!" Anger wins out. "Superboy deserves better than that! Why is it so hard for you to just give him a chance?!"

Uncle Clark takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

"Dick, I know he's your friend, but there are things I can't explain to you. Things I'm not prepared to deal with, and it wouldn't be fair to either of us for me to pin those things on him."

"Everyone has stuff that they don't want to deal with, but you don't get a choice!"

"You don't understand. You have no idea what it's like to have a role you never asked for to be pushed onto you!"

My heart pounds and blood rushes to my head. I have no idea what it's like?! Try being forced into a secret apprenticeship with a mercenary who makes you lie to everyone you care about.

"I guess you're right." I sneer, standing up. "I'm probably just not ready to understand. Just like I wasn't ready to know about the Watchtower or join the actual Justice League."

"Look, I know you're mad, and you have every right to be, but please… this is really difficult for me."

"Oh sure, I get it. I'll just tell Conner that his existence is hard for you."

Uncle Clark sighs.

"I can't do this with you right now. We can talk about it later, but I really cannot deal with him right now. I know!" He interrupts me before I can launch into another tirade about how Conner isn't just a problem to be dealt with. "He deserves to be treated well, with good mentorship that can give him what he needs. That just can't be me right now, okay?"

I take a breath, side-eyeing the wall next to me. "Fine. We'll talk about it later."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Robin may not have noticed any, ahem, changes his body may be going through, but everyone else sure has. But you know, I'm sure they'll just leave it alone and not investigate any deeper.


	19. Chapter 19

Dick Grayson

Louisiana Bayou

Friday, October 8th, 2012

* * *

"Switching flight controls to manual," Miss Martian says. Kid Flash takes the controls and there's barely a dip as he adjusts the bioship's flight path. Looks like someone's been putting in his flight hours. I make sure the case on my back is securely fastened and position myself over the hatch. The Louisiana Bayou is down below, the perfect hiding spot for the Injustice League.

"Radio check." Aqualad orders.

We all tap our earpieces and count off. Miss Martian flies to the center of the bioship and lands next to me. I nod at her and hold out my hands. She grabs them tightly, gripping around my wrists just like I showed her.

"Drop zone approaching." Aqualad announces.

"Ready one." I say.

"Ready two." Miss Martian adds, camouflaging herself to be almost transparent.

"Now."

The hatch opens and we free-fall into the bayou. Miss Martian uses her telekinesis before she starts flying, so instead of having my arms wrenched out of my sockets it just feels like catching a trapeze bar. We land softly on the ground, just outside the farthest reaches of the conservatory's security perimeter.

'_Mind-link established.' _She tells me. The rest of the team can contact us by comms, but for now, it's just the two of us.

I nod.

'_There are four maintenance doors we can access from this position without having to cross too many sight lines. We don't know what kinds of security they've set up, but we have to assume there's some kind of magic trigger in addition to cameras and motion sensors.'_

'_What about Poison Ivy?'_

I point at the massive growth protruding from the top of the conservatory like a satellite.

'_That plant thing is huge. She's used up most of her energy and focus on it. As long as we don't start hacking, slashing and burning, she's shouldn't notice us.'_

'_Okay.'_

'_Move slowly. If you see anything out of the ordinary, use extreme caution. Whatever you do, don't touch those.'_

I point at one of the little plant-buds sticking out of the mud. It's a modified version of Ivy's favorite perimeter alarms, and if I'm guessing right, they'll probably release some variation of Joker venom. Just to be safe, I clip my rebreather to the holder on my glove. We set off for the closest maintenance door. Miss Martian flies next to me, staying a few inches above the ground to avoid setting off any traps. I pick my way through the trees slowly, making sure to stay far, far away from the little plant bombs.

'_Can you open it from here?'_

'_Yes.'_

'_Open it a little, see if any alarms go off. They're probably relying on magic and Ivy's security, but I'd rather ambush them than get ambushed.'_ I climb into the nearest tree, clinging to a branch about six feet off the ground to make sure I'm clear of any ground traps. Birdarangs in hand, I nod at Miss M. Floating above the ground, she holds out her hand and her eyes start glowing green. The innocuous door opens slowly, just a crack at first and then wide enough to roll a baseball through. We freeze, waiting for blaring alarms or a sudden rush of supervillains looking for a fight.

But there's only silence. After five minutes, I nod at Miss Martian. She looks relieved.

'_Ready?' _She asks.

"We're about to infiltrate the conservatory," I report over the comms.

"Ten minutes until the flyby." Aqualad answers. That's our distraction to blow the vines without getting torn apart by the entire Injustice League.

"Acknowledged." I turn to Miss Martian.

'_Open it.'_

The door opens all the way and Miss Martian flies in first. I sprint after her, jumping over a row of alarm buds that form a subtle perimeter around the building. We shut the door behind us, leaving a tiny opening so that it won't lock behind us.

'_All the maintenance hallways lead straight to the atrium. There's no surveillance cameras, we just have to worry about Wotan and Ivy's traps. Find the conservatory, do a headcount, then regroup.'_

* * *

'_All members of the Injustice League accounted for.'_ Miss Martian says, flying back into the hallway where I'm hiding. A root the size of my entire body punctured through the wall and embedded itself deep into the floor, leaving a hole big enough to fit through.

'_Then we go to phase two. Make sure to keep track of them, if anyone sneaks up on us, we're in trouble.'_

I open the case and take out a smaller box with half the explosives in it. Miss Martian takes it and pulls one of the charges out to inspect it.

'_Try and space them out a foot from each other for maximum damage. All you have to do is push the anchor pins into the plant and they'll stick. I'll blow them all remotely once we get Aqualad's signal.'_

'_Are you sure you've got ground? I can cover the whole thing.'_

'_We need to be as quick as possible. I'll get the roots, you get everything I can't reach.'_

'_Be careful.'_

'_You too.'_

Miss Martian camouflages herself again and flies away. I take a deep breath, taking a belt out of the case and clipping it around my waist so that my half of the explosives are in easy reach. Then I climb through the hole left by the gigantic root. Three quarters of the conservatory is taken up by the gargantuan plant growing all the way through the ceiling. It's an enormous mass of green and brown vines, leaves and roots covering every visible surface. There are glowing orange lines that look almost like circuits running all over the surface. It makes for great cover… as long as Ivy never realizes I'm there. If she does, it's an instant death trap.

The Joker is standing in front of the magic display screens, waving his hands around to control the plants wreaking havoc around the world.

"AAAAND ANOTHER ONE GOES KABOOOM!" The Joker sings, cackling as he shatters an apartment building in a spray of broken glass and crumbled bricks. On screen, Captain Marvel flies through the wreckage to try and hold the plants back from destroying the next building. "Whoopsie! Not kaboom, more like, SKOOOSH PEW WHAM-HAHAHAHAHA!"

Black Adam and Wotan scowl furiously at the Joker's back, pausing briefly to lock eyes with each other like they're daring each other to make him shut up. Clearly they're regretting this team up. I duck under a root to pull out the first set of explosives, fighting back a grin. What did they think teaming up with the Joker would look like? They probably haven't realized there's a ninety-eight percent chance he'll try to gas all of them by the time this thing wraps up. Maybe Ivy warned them, but chances are low.

Actually, what's up with that? She hates him. The previous record for their team up was twelve minutes and nine seconds before she tried to murder him. Whose brilliant idea was it to put them both in this league together?

"Who needs Kobra Venom when you've got good old Joker venom?!" The Joker cackles.

"They both work well in concert," Count Vertigo growls.

"Too well, maybe." Ivy says. I hold my breath as she walks past my hiding spot to crouch down over a nearby root. "We're putting considerable strain on my baby."

She does something that makes the whole section of vines around me turn from a sickly brown to a deep green. Ultra-Humanite's heavy footsteps follow, and then little yellow lights turn on across the entire plant. I drop onto my stomach, squeezing into a little crevice beneath the mass of roots where I won't accidentally get zapped by the electrified plant.

'_Not good. They're charging it!' _I warn Miss Martian. _'Stay clear!'_

'_Got it.'_

Wotan starts chanting and the circuit lines running through the whole plant start glowing and shifting. This is not good. Even with the amount of explosives we brought, we were counting on the structural fatigue to propagate cracks. The Injustice League has the power to keep the plant from ever getting near its limit. If we blow it now, it might be too strong to destroy completely.

"We will keep her healthy and safe, Ivy. But she requires more power."

More power? Shit.

"Skull!"

Suddenly, the whole plant starts glowing with white energy and the little crevice I'm in starts to get hot. Really hot. But only for a few seconds, then the glowing stops. The bad news now is that there's no way we can take the plant out with all of them ready to supercharge it up again. We're going to have to get rid of them somehow. The good news is that Atomic Skull's energy beams aren't actually radiation, so I don't have to worry about getting massive amounts of radiation exposure.

"Much better!" Ivy exclaims. I hear footsteps as she and Ultra-Humanite walk towards Wotan. I've planted charges everywhere I can reach on this side of the plant, so I move on. There's still a lot more ground to cover and explosives to plant.

* * *

The Joker keeps up a constant stream of chatter that annoys the rest of the league, and even though it's creepy it's also super helpful to keep track of where they all are. For instance, Ivy is on the far side of the room with Wotan standing nearby to stop her from making another lunge at the Joker. It doesn't stop them from arguing nonstop.

"Poor little heroes. Nothing they do is quite enough. Ain't it grand?! AHAHAHAHAHA?"

"Of course it's grand, they're my babies." Ivy snaps back.

"Yes, well, the planty things are well and good, but the real magic's all in the flick of the 'ol wrist."

"Oh please, you're just waving your hands around while my plants do all the real work!"

"For your information, my hand waving is a delicate symphony of orchestrated chaos! It's a juggling act! A balance beam that—"

"Never stops talking! Ugh, how does Harley stand to be around you without strangling you?"

"Will you both knock it off?!" Black Adam demands.

"Yeesh! Someone woke up on the wrong side of the lair."

"Shut up!" Ivy, Adam and Vertigo yell at the same time.

'_Devices planted.'_ Miss Martian reports.

'_One more. And… done.'_

'_Let's get clear and blow it.'_

'_Wait.' _I stop her. _'They've been charging the plant this whole time, so it's too strong to blow. We have to take some of them out to weaken it. Plus, it won't be over once we destroy the antenna. The less of them we have to fight then, the better.'_

'_How are we going to do that?'_

'_I'll set off the perimeter alarms. As long as they know it's me, either Joker or Har—I mean, Ivy will come running.'_

'_Are you sure?'_

'_It's a Gotham thing.'_

'_On your mark.'_

'_I'll distract her if you make sure she stays quiet. Meet me in the hallway, I have a plan and there's only a medium chance it'll go horribly.'_

* * *

"Oh Boy Wonder…." Ivy sings, trailing her hand along the wall as she walks down the hall towards my hiding spot. "Come out, come out wherever you are."

"Looking for me?" I drop down from the rafters, landing softly on the ground. I see Ivy's hand twitch and the faint rumbling in the floor means I only have a few seconds before the attack comes.

"There you are! I thought you and Batman were a no-show. It hurt my feelings that us Gothamites mean so little to you these days."

"Don't get too excited, Batman's got other stuff to do today."

"Then he's going to miss all the fun… of watching you die!"

As she speaks, the floor erupts with vines. I flip into the air, dodging the shoots and leaves and landing on a fast-growing vine. I slide down it and jump to the ground before breaking into a sprint. Ivy sends waves of plants after me that I duck under, jump over and slide through.

'_Get ready…'_

I reach into my belt and pull back my wrist like I'm about to throw it, telegraphing the movements as much as I can. The hardest part is letting the attack happen. The vines grab my arm first and cocoon around me, lifting me off the ground.

"Agh!" I grunt as the vines start squeezing. My voice echoes off the walls and a psychotic cackle answers.

"HAhahahahaHAHA having fun without me Ivy?" The Joker shouts from inside the dome.

"Just a little bird infestation." She calls back, raising her clenched fist. "But don't worry, I'll have it handled in a second."

"Stop playing with your food and finish him already!" Ultra-Humanite growls. "If he's here, there will be others."

I thrash against the vines, gasping for air as the plants just get tighter.

'_Robin!' _Miss Martian calls.

'_Not yet!'_

"Oh, I am going to enjoy every second of this. This little vermin has been a thorn in my side for years, and once he's dead I'll use his body to fertilize my baby."

"One… problem…" I wheeze.

"And what's that?" Ultra-Humanite raises his gun to point it at me. Ivy rolls her eyes and the vines tighten, cutting off the last of my air. Or at least it would if Miss Martian wasn't telekinetically holding them back.

'_Now!'_

I press the button on the trigger in my hand, and the gas pellets planted along the walls explode. The vines holding me drop away and Miss Martian pulls me out of the blast radius of the gas. Eight of the pellets hit Ultra-Humanite dead on and Miss Martian slams her palms onto his temple. The psychic reverb is almost tangible as she commands him to sleep and he drops like a stone. I sprint as soon as I hit the ground, charging Ivy before she can react. A flying sidekick to the chest knocks her back, followed by an elbow strike to her head while the wind is still knocked out of her.

'The problem is, _I don't want to be fertilizer_.' I think decisively.

Miss Martian lands next to me.

'_Are you okay?'_

'_Yeah. You?'_

She nods. I reach for the special cuffs Batman gave me at Mount Justice.

'_Will those work?'_

'_Bat-cuffs with built-in inhibitor chips. Specifically designed for heavy hitters like Ultra-Humanite.'_

'_What about Ivy?'_

I reach for a vial on the other side of my belt.

'_This will temporarily neutralize Ivy's innate resistance to biochemical substances and make sure she takes a nice, long nap.'_

'_Batman?'_

I nod.

"Oh Ivyyyyyy! I'm not hearing any screaming…" The Joker calls from the other room. I type a command into my wrist computer playback.

"I'm going to enjoy every second of this [...] you stupid clown!" The recording is a little choppy, but it's good enough for five seconds of editing.

"Well someone's huffy!" The Joker calls. He pauses. "Get it? Huffy?! AhahhaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! That's a good one! HAhahaha!"

The perimeter alarms go off a second later.

"Gentlemen, we have company." Atomic Skull announces. His voice is quiet and smooth and it glides across the walls of the dome. "Count Vertigo, Black Adam, Wotan, show them a proper greeting."

'_If I take the Joker, do you have Skull?' _I ask.

'_He's mine.' _Miss Martian nods.

'_Don't let him hit you. He has a three second cool-down between blasts. It's short, but he's an open target.'_

'_Got it. Be careful.'_

'_You too.'_

"Aqualad to Robin and Miss Martian! Enemy has engaged! What's your status?" Our comms chirp at the same time.

"In position. Ready on your signal. Be advised, Black Adam, Wotan and Vertigo are coming your way." Miss Martian answers.

"Understood. Are you clear?"

"We're out of detonation range but-"

"No time, we've been hit! Are you clear?" Aqualad interrupts, and there's no time to argue.

"Yes!"

"Blow it."

* * *

The Haunt

Sunday, October 10th

* * *

"Are you doing all right?" Slade asks. I look up from the laptop screen, saving my code again for good measure. Hardison's projects are hard enough and I am not restarting this one from scratch.

"Yeah? Why?"

"It was hard to miss the giant plants that attacked the entire planet." He says dryly. "And rumor has it the sidekicks were the ones responsible for putting an end to it. I can't imagine that was an easy fight."

"I'm fine."

"Of course, that's not the only rumor…"

"I'm sure it's not." I mutter under my breath, trying not to roll my eyes. Is he really trying to get me to tell him League secrets?

"During the fight, it seems Robin took on the Joker."

I keep my face as blank as I can.

"And?"

"Apparently Robin said something to him that made the Joker angrier than anyone has even seen him. That's particularly impressive as it can be nearly impossible to genuinely get a rise out of him."

"Really?!" I snort. "That's what you want to know?"

"I admit that I'm very curious."

I fight back the urge to grin and ask, "Have you heard of the Egg Register?"

Judging by the irritated silence, that's a no. I take a second to appreciate that I've finally found something Slade knows absolutely nothing about, which feels amazing.

"There's a church in London that has the world's only official clown registry. When you become an official member of Clowns International, you get your makeup and outfit painted onto an egg and it's like a personal copyright. It's a really big deal in the clown world."

"And the Joker…"

"About three years ago, he tried to join and they put out a statement saying that he will never be recognized as an official clown and he'll never get an egg in the registry. It's his biggest weak spot."

"I see."

"What are the rumors saying?"

"Nothing even remotely correct, as usual. I think the dominant theory was something to do with his hatred of Poison Ivy."

"I mean, that happened too."

"You took on both of them by yourself?"

"No, it was a team effort." I pause. "But even the way it turned out, it feels… too convenient. Not that it was too easy, the fighting was definitely real, but now that there's faces to put to everything that's happened, it doesn't make sense. The Injustice League has a lot of power and they're super dangerous, but how is anyone supposed to believe the Joker came up with a plan to team up with a ton of random villains, including Ivy who hates him, and convinced them all to go along with it? And if it wasn't his plan, then who would've ever included him? When the plan fell apart, he tried to kill all of us, including them, so they'd be right not to include him. It just doesn't make sense that they're behind everything."

Slade doesn't say anything for a while and I wonder if I've said too much. But nothing I said was a secret; the Injustice League's broadcast went out to the entire world, and he already knew I was there.

"What do you want me to say to that?"

"What?"

"I think you already know the answer. You're just waiting for it to be someone else's idea."

Shit. That means I was right, that...

"They're not behind it, are they?"

Slade doesn't break eye contact when he answers, "The Injustice League is not behind everything."

I stare at him. My heart is pounding in my ears.

"Do... do you know who is?"

There's a long pause.

"**If** I did… that's a line you're not ready to cross."

My stomach drops. Right. He's the bad guy. How do I always forget that?

"Right." I turn around, sitting back down in front of the laptop. I have to get back to my coding anyway. Slade snorts.

"There's no need to get defensive. Besides, as long as we're sharing, I've uncovered some information I believe you'll be very interested in."

"What?"

"T.O. Morrow."

I wait for him to keep explaining but he doesn't. Am I supposed to know who that is?

"What about him?" I prompt after a few seconds, raising an eyebrow, "Who is he?"

Slade shakes his head at me, letting out a huff of air in his version of a laugh.

"Yellowstone National Park."

"What?"

"He's maintained an underground laboratory beneath Old Faithful. My sources tell me that it's been drawing power for the first time in about a decade."

I stare at him.

"I have no idea who that is."

* * *

Mount Justice

Friday, October 15th

* * *

"Here's your pineapple juice, Wally!" Captain Marvel flies in, holding the glass in easy-reaching distance for Wally to grab. "I put a tiny umbrella in it, just like you wanted."

Uh-oh. It's like watching Jay meet Roy for the first time before I found them dropping water balloons from the balcony at Ollie's Christmas party. Except Wally doesn't know that Billy's a ten-year-old who just wants to older kids to like him. He's got an actual earnest smile on his face when he asks, "How's the arm doing?"

Wally sighs dramatically, holding his cast in the air like a Shakespearean actor monologuing to a skull.

"I just wish it was better already. But really, it's nothing some nachos can't fix."

"Oh! I can get you nachos!"

Aaaaand Captain Marvel zooms off to go get him food. That's it.

"Wally, knock it off!" I snap, turning around to glare at him.

"What?" Wally defends.

"Hyah!" Artemis grunts, spinning in midair to catch me off guard with a roundhouse kick to the temple. I duck, letting her foot pass over my head before driving my shoulder into her hamstring and pushing her hard on the small of her back. She lands a few feet away and rolls smoothly to her feet.

"He's not your butler!" I tell Wally.

"Says the guy who actually has a butler." Wally grumbles.

"Cave butler." Kaldur and I correct at the same time. M'gann giggles as she drives Kaldur back with a combination of punches and redirections.

"Why don't we have a cave butler?" Conner asks. While we're down a sixth fighter, he gets to be score keeper and that means making up obscure rules for us to follow.

"This isn't a naturally occurring cave." I answer, blocking a punch and jabbing Artemis in the kneecap.

"And the Batcave is?" Artemis raises an eyebrow, redirecting the hit to get me off balance.

"Yup."

"Thirty seconds." Black Canary calls.

"No hands!" Conner announces, updating the score system.

Artemis lunges at me with an elbow strike that spins into a back-kick combo. I dodge and block with my forearms before trying to grab her in a headlock. She kicks the back of my knee and slips out before I can tighten my grip. Kaldur bursts out laughing. Artemis jumps over my sweep kick and turns to look, so I look too. M'gann is grinning at Kaldur, brandishing her giant, shape-shifted crab claws at him.

"What? He said no hands. These are aren't hands." She grins, clicking them together.

"Are powers permitted at this time?" Kaldur asks Conner.

"No."

M'gann redirects her smile at him and I can hear her puppy eyes from across the room.

"Are you sure?"

"Powers are fine." Conner amends.

"Alright, I think that's enough for today," Black Canary steps forward, stopping the timer. She's grinning and shaking her head at us. "Good work guys. We've gotten a lot done this week."

"Yeah, some of us have." Artemis says, glaring pointedly at Wally. He stops slurping his pineapple juice to protest.

"Hey! Arm broken in combat against the Injustice League, here." He waves the cast around and we all roll our eyes. Okay, yes, I do feel bad that he's in pain but also he could be a little less needy. He had Billy bring him an armchair to watch us train! It's not like there's anything wrong with his legs!

Black Canary laughs, shaking her head.

"You know, I've really had fun being your den mother this week."

"You are welcome to hold the position longer, if you desire," Kaldur offers. Conner snorts.

"Not like the League is doing anything about our old one." He mutters. I lock eyes with Kaldur as Black Canary stiffens.

"Recognized. Zatara, one-one."

The zeta beam goes off, interrupting that particular line of thought. When the light fades, Zatara walks to the computer without saying a word. Conner looks at me and I shrug, trying to tell him I don't have a clue what's going on either. But Canary looks like she knows what's happening by the way she goes to stand by Zatara. The rest of us follow, with Artemis dragging Wally off the couch before he can protest. When the light fades for a second time, there's a girl about my age standing in front of us with her arms crossed over her chest. She's wearing a school uniform and looks about as unenthusiastic about being in a room full of superheroes as anyone has ever been. Luckily, Zatara is quick to make introductions.

"Zatanna, this is the team. Team, my daughter, Zatanna."

'_Dude, say hi!' _Wally practically shouts at me over the mind link.

'_What?'_

'_Do it or I will! Ow!'_

'_Will you shut up?' _Artemis elbows him.

Luckily, M'gann flies in to the rescue.

"Hi! I'm Megan, this is Wally, Artemis, Robin, Kaldur and Conner."

"Welcome to the cave." Kaldur adds.

Zatanna smiles shyly, looking at her dad for direction before nodding at us.

"So, are you joining the team?" Artemis asks, stepping forwards and putting a hand on her hip.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Zatara cuts in quickly, not giving Zatanna any chance to respond. "This is strictly a visit, although I am sorry we missed the training."

"You didn't miss much. Today was a slow day." Wally grins. We all turn to glare at him and he raises his hands quickly. "Kidding, kidding."

Zatara and Canary are getting lost in a discussion about training methods, and Zatanna looks like she wants to curl up into a ball and hide. From the looks of it, she's not going to last long in this business.

'_Do the rest of you get the impression we're still on probation with Zatara?' _M'gann asks.

'_Not just Zatara.' _Conner points out. _'I mean, why is Marvel still hanging around?'_

'_Billy's harmless.' _I say.

'_And we like having him around_,' Wally cuts in. Artemis smacks him.

'_You just like having him around because he waits on you hand and foot.'_

'_And your point is?'_

'_Wally, stop taking advantage of him!'_ I snap.

'_How am I taking advantage? He's offering!'_

'_It almost makes one nostalgic for Red Tornado's tenure as our supervisor.' _Kaldur says, crossing his arms over his chest.

'_At least he trusted us.' _I snort._ 'Besides, did you see the way Canary reacted when Conner brought him up?'_

'_The League is just ignoring the fact that he was a traitor! They just let him get away!' _Conner growls. _'He nearly got M'g—all of us killed!'_

"Are… you guys having a psychic conversation?" Zatanna asks. We all stop yelling and turn to look at her. "Cause, I can't decide if that's cool or really rude."

Conner is the one who looks at Canary and Zatara's stares and makes a decision.

"Fine. We were talking about Tornado. It's been weeks since his attack and the League hasn't told us anything!"

"The League is searching for Tornado, as well as the other androids that invaded the cave, and their creator T.O. Morrow."

Oh.

Oh shit.

Yellowstone.

Old Faithful.

That's what Slade was talking about.

'_Robin?'_ M'gann whispers. I freeze. _'Don't worry, it's a private link. Are you okay?'_

'_I know where Tornado is.' _I tell her, forcing myself to relax so no one else notices our silent conversation. Zatanna is still caught up listening to Canary's explanation.

'_What?! How? Where?!'_

'_T.O. Morrow has an underground lab in Yellowstone National Park, but M'gann, I can't tell them how I know.'_

'_Slade?'_

'_He told me last week, after the fight with the Injustice League.'_

'_You're still working with him?! Robin, you know he's not-'_

_'Yeah, and we'll deal with that later! Right now, we have more important things!'_

"Yeah, and you haven't found anything," Artemis retorts.

"Regardless, Tornado is Justice League Business. The Team is not to pursue this." Canary frowns, her voice sharp. I don't know what my face is doing, but I know there are at least four matching unimpressed expressions staring back at her.

"Ahem, why don't you all take Zatanna on a, uh… tour? Of the… cave…" Zatara suggests awkwardly. I roll my eyes and glance over my shoulder to where Zatanna is curled up on top of Wolf. Conner blinks like he just noticed she wasn't standing next to Zatara.

"You're giving a tour? Cool!" Captain Marvel exclaims as he walks in carrying a plate of nachos. Summoned by the smell of food, Wolf bounds over to him and tries to eat the plate out of Billy's hands.

"Actually, I was hoping you could take Wolf outside," Conner steps forward before I can say anything. "He needs the exercise. We'll, uh, join you in a few."

"Uh, sure! Sure, I can do that. C'mon Wolf!"

Wolf follows him, but he's really only following the plate of nachos. Kaldur moves us along to the kitchen quickly, where Zatanna lets out a snort.

"We're not really taking a tour, are we?" When I look over, she's grinning. She's also wearing a purple tank top and a pair of white jeans that she definitely wasn't wearing twenty seconds ago.

"How did you-"

"Magic." She winks at me, and suddenly I see all the way through the 'I'm a bored teenager' act. And I feel really stupid for judging her so fast.

"No, we're not. We're hunting down that robot." Conner says, glancing at Kaldur for confirmation.

"Yes. We are."

"Wow… out loud and everything." The look on her face is flat out diabolical. Okay, I take back everything I thought about her prior to a minute ago.

"What about… new girl?" Artemis asks hesitantly. I make eye contact with Zatanna and we share a grin.

"What, are you worried she's going to tell on us?" I tease Artemis.

"I can't tell." Zatanna picks up where I left off. "Not if you… kidnap me."

Yup, it's confirmed. Zee's a badass.

"Oh, she's gonna fit in great." Artemis says.

Of course, the problem starts when we step onto the bioship and M'gann immediately starts flying due west. Almost like she knows exactly where our target is. Which she CAN'T KNOW!

_'Where are we going?' _I ask over the mind link.

'_Yellowstone. Isn't that where you said?'_

'_M'gann, how do we explain to the rest of the team how we knew where to go?'_

The bioship dips a tiny bit and I fight back a curse.

'_Then what do we do?'_

I get an idea suddenly.

"Batman and the League have been searching for weeks and haven't found anything. And they're been searching for Tornado and Morrow in every logical location. If we're gonna do better, we need an illogical solution." I turn around to look at Wally. "A truly dumb idea."

Wally pouts and looks at the rest of our teammates, and sure enough we're all staring at him. Then he shrugs and decides to roll with it.

"As a matter of fact… let's take a trip to Belle Rev."

Wally, I could kiss you.

* * *

Gordon Residence, Gotham

Wednesday, October 20th

* * *

"—and then we blew exhaust holes in the sides of the volcano and stopped it from erupting and taking half the planet with it."

"That's crazy!" Babs exclaims. "What happened to Red Tornado?"

"He's fine. Batman, GA and some of the other leaguers are helping him run diagnostics on his code, and they're installing failsafes for him to use in case anyone tries to corrupt him again. But for now, we've got our Den Mother back."

"Your life is insane." She grins.

"Yeah, basically."

"I'm serious! Last week, you stopped the giant plants trying to take over the entire world, yesterday you stopped a massive volcano from exploding while fighting evil robots, you're friends with aliens, fish people, a guy who can run faster than the speed of sound, and meanwhile you're also taking AP Calculus with the rest of us mortals."

"You forgot a master archer and a magician in training."

"Damn, how could I have forgotten Artemis, she's my favorite."

"Babs!"

"Except you, dummy. And Za…Zee-Zee?"

"Zatanna."

"Do you have a crush on her?"

"Babs, I just met her."

"That's not a noooooo…" Babs sings, a wicked grin stretching across her face.

"You're the worst!" I can feel my face getting hot. "I don't have time for a girlfriend. She's really cool and nice and I hope she joins the team. That's it."

"I'm just saying! The Boy Wonder's a catch."

"BABS!"

"Fiiiiiiiine. I'll stop. So," she flips a page in her notebook dramatically. "What's up next for you intrepid young heroes who definitely are not crushing on each other?"

"Now that Tornado's back, the League will probably back off us a little. No more constant supervision, so that's good. I think they're still planning to have us do a failure sim tomorrow."

"What's that?"

"It's like a virtual reality disaster simulator. They put us in an unwinnable situation to see how far we get."

"So it's like a video game?"

"Nope. The Martian Manhunter is going to link our minds up to the simulation, so it'll feel like we're really there."

Babs stares.

"That sounds really scary."

"Not really. I mean, we'll know it's a simulation, and it's important for us to train for the worst. What if something big happens and the League can't respond to it? We have to be ready to step up."

Babs shivers.

"Still…"

There's a knock on her door.

"Hey Dad!" Babs calls. "Door's open!"

Commissioner Gordon opens the door slowly, poking his head and smiling.

"You got home early!" Babs grins.

"The only good part about having meetings all day instead of real work. Good to see you, Dick."

"Hey Mr. Gordon," I wave.

"Dick, you know you can just call me Jim."

"No I can't, it feels weird." Besides, at least I don't call him Commissioner. Getting around that one was rough.

"I call your dad Bruce." Babs points out.

"Yeah, but I call him Bruce too."

"Are you staying for pizza night?" Commissioner Gordon asks.

"Shoot, I forgot that was Wednesday, I can't tonight. Rain check?"

"Fine, but you're coming next time!" Babs demands, poking me in the chest with her finger.

I hold my hands up in surrender.

"Deal."

"Need a ride home?" He offers.

"That would be great!"

* * *

Mount Justice

Friday, October 22nd

After the Failsafe

* * *

M'gann is sitting on her bed, facing the wall without moving.

"M'gann?"

She stiffens before hunching in on herself, tears dripping down her face. I shut the door behind me, making sure it's locked before sitting on the bed next to her. I don't know what to say so instead we just sit in silence while she sobs.

It's a long time before she takes a breath. When she talks, her voice is a mixture of pain and guilt and self-hatred.

"I'm so sorry."

I try to take her hand but she pulls it away. I take the hint and keep my hands to myself.

"M'gann, we don't… blame you." I say quietly. "You didn't know it would happen and it didn't occur to anyone that there was any chance of it happening."

"It was my fault. I did that to us."

"You didn't do it on purpose. You didn't know it would happen. This is NOT your fault. Besides, at least we know disaster simulators are… a disaster."

She doesn't smile.

"Oh come on, nothing? Not even an eye roll?"

"How are you joking around right now?"

"Because that's how I deal with trauma?" I grin.

"Robin, that's not funny."

"Well, I'm not kidding." I lean back, lying down on her bed to stare at the ceiling. "What did you and Canary talk about?"

M'gann sighs heavily.

"She told me I need to practice with my powers more."

"What do you think?"

She looks down at the ground.

"What if I hurt someone? What if I pry too far and do something I can't take back?"

"But what if you do it accidentally because you don't know your limits?" I point out.

"It's not worth the risk!"

"Isn't it? That's why we train together, with supervision of the people on the planet who are the most capable of dealing with it if something goes wrong. That's why you have a mentor. I mean, what did Manhunter say?"

She sighs again and I pull her down on the bed with me. This time, she doesn't pull away and the two of us lie side by side. The heat from her body and the smell of her orange blossom shampoo calm me down more than anything has since we all fake died. This is familiar. This is safe.

"I'm scared to ask him. I think he's been avoiding me."

"Well no shit. He's probably horrified that—"

"I messed up so badly." She interrupts.

"What? No! M'gann, the only way to end the simulation was to kill you. He's your uncle! He loves you! If we're massively fucked up just having seen each other die, think about how he's feeling."

"What if he can't forgive me?" She whispers.

"You won't know what he's feeling unless you talk to him. Besides, there's no one on the planet who understands what you're going through more. He's the only other Martian on a planet full of Earthlings. Maybe he's been through something like this before."

"You think?"

"You don't know until you talk to him."

There's a long pause.

"What did you talk to Canary about?"

Now it's my turn to share. Fair's fair I guess.

"Oh, you know, I became team leader and immediately got everyone killed. Myself included."

"Robin, that's not fair."

"No, it's true. I sent Conner to his death as a diversion. And what's worse is that he knew exactly what I was doing and went along with it anyway. I mean, how am I supposed to live with that? I made a plan knowing that it would get every single one of use killed and followed through with it. If it had been real… I was willing send my last three teammates to their deaths and die right along with you. I was ready to die. I have a family, M'gann! I literally didn't even remember they existed. What would it have done to them if Batman and I both died fighting aliens?"

Now it's M'gann's turn to reach out and I let her fingers intertwine with mine.

"I died. I sacrificed myself for the mission, for the good of the entire world because it was the only way to stop the invasion. But if it had been real, I would've died for nothing. All of us died for nothing. I killed all of us for nothing and now all I can think about is that nothing is worth dying for."

The next words stick in my throat and the ache in my chest hurts so badly I have to sit up so I can still breathe.

"I don't want to die."

The look on M'gann's face can only be described as heartbroken, but instead of saying anything she just wraps her arms around me in a hug. I lean in, letting her hold us both up while tears pour down my face. The wetness on my shoulder means I'm not the only one crying.

Then the alarm on her phone goes off, completely ruining the moment.

And honestly? That's fine with me. The hug was nice, but really it was a horrible moment.

"Those are the cookies," she says, using her telekinesis to turn it off without moving from the bed.

"You should probably get them." I tell her.

* * *

The kitchen is empty when we get there. It's Wally's turn with Canary, and it looks like Conner took off a while ago. M'gann floats over to the oven to check on her cookies.

"Do you want to put a movie on?"

I shrug.

"Is there anything you want to watch?"

"Something funny?"

It takes a few minutes to find something that looks remotely funny and not likely to give any of us breakdowns. I put it on and sit on the couch. M'gann passes me a cookie and sits next to me.

"It's hot." She warns.

"Thanks."

"What did you pick?"

"The Addams' Family."

"What's it about?"

"It's about this family that's really creepy and Goth but the joke is that they're really happy and nice people. Just different. I don't remember what happens in the movie but it's cute."

"It sounds perfect."

* * *

I don't realize I fell asleep until M'gann taps me on the forehead lightly. I look up at her, blinking groggily.

"…wha?"

"You should just lie down." She answers, trying to hide her grin.

"Don't make fun'f me." I mumble, but I'm half asleep already. "I wan' the couch."

"All yours." M'gann giggles.

I lay down, putting my head in her lap and stretching my feet out.

"Hey!" Artemis snaps. I lift my head and sure enough she's sitting on the other end of the couch, looking a little bit annoyed. But not too annoyed.

"Hi 'Mis." I mumble without moving.

"Robin, get off."

"no thanks."

"Ugh. Fine. But just this once."

"mmhm."

* * *

"Fester Addams! My brother, returned to us after twenty-five years!" The tv blares.

"Room for me to squeeze in?" Wally asks.

"If you wake him up, you're in big trouble." Artemis threatens. I don't bother to tell them I'm not asleep, because it's close enough. And opening my eyes is too much work.

"No problem." Wally grins. I can't see him do it, but I know his bragging voice well enough to see the look on his face. He lifts up my feet and the couch shifts as he squeezes in between Artemis and the armrest. "Tada!"

"Shh."

"Tada." He whispers.

I drift again.

* * *

"Kaldur, there's room," M'gann says quietly.

"ZZzzzzzzz." Artemis snores.

"I don't wish to intrude."

"Kaldur, sit on the couch." Wally orders.

"Shh." M'gann hisses. The couch dips as she squeezes closer to Artemis and Kaldur sits on her other side.

"This mamushka, we dance for you!" Declares the tv. "Mamushka!"

* * *

Dinah Lance

Mount Justice

* * *

Dinah was worried. She was furious at herself, angry with the other members of the League, but mostly she was worried. The parade of young heroes coming to talk to her had been concerning mostly in that she'd been completely wrong about what was bothering each of them.

Of all of them, Conner's confession had helped him the most. Dinah was proud of him for being able to process his thoughts on his own, and she suspected there would be a pretty interesting mission report about wherever he and the Sphere had gone off to.

But the rest of the Team was struggling. Kaldur and Dick with the guilt from leading, M'gann with the guilt of hijacking the simulation, and Artemis with uncertainty about her role on the team. As ridiculous as it sounded to admit it, she was the most concerned about Wally. He'd flat out refused to talk about the failsafe, refused to address his feelings, and with the responsibilities from his new abilities, Dinah was concerned he didn't have any healthy outlets.

The failsafe was truly a disaster, and the team had been having a hard enough time since the Reds broke into the cave and accusations of betrayal had been thrown around. Dinah believed in the kids, she really did, but this was a lot for anyone to handle.

Maybe it was too much. Maybe the team would start to fracture around the edges and it was only a matter of time before they'd have to disband for their own good. Dinah didn't know what she could do for them if that that happened.

She was a combat specialist. Team psychologist was never supposed to have been her job.

Would the team be okay?

"Canary?" Conner asked. Dinah blinked, looking down at the notepad in her hand.

"I'm sorry, Conner. I got distracted. What were you saying?"

Conner shrugged.

"Just… thank you for being here. I appreciate that I can talk to you and you won't judge me."

"Of course. That's why I'm here. You are always welcome to talk to me."

She glanced up at the clock on the wall and nodded. "Why don't we finish here? We can always talk more later, but I'm sure you're hungry."

"Sure."

Outside the office, echoes from the tv bounced off the cave walls. That was a good sign, wasn't it? The team hadn't had a movie night in a while, so if they were willing to spend time with each other it meant they might be willing to recover together.

Dinah sighed, knowing it wasn't what she hoped. M'gann was the only one left. Kaldur was scared to spend time with the team and risk feeling like he wasn't wanted, Artemis didn't like the reminder that she'd been the catalyst for her teammates' suffering, Wally's coping mechanism had always been to run away (unsurprisingly), and who knew where Dick had disappeared to.

Still, she followed Conner into the kitchen on the way to the Zeta Chamber. And when the room came into view, she stopped short, hands flying up to her mouth to stop herself from laughing out loud.

There was a movie on, but the team had long-since stopped watching. Kaldur was on one end of the couch, head dropped as his chest rose and fell in even breaths. M'gann's head was resting on his shoulder and Artemis was leaning on M'gann. Wally was on the other end, leaning away from his teammates, but he and Artemis were holding hands, fingers interlocked in a tight grip. And Dick was sprawled out over his teammates, head in M'gann's lap and feet on Wally's legs.

They were all fast asleep, and it was the cutest thing Dinah had seen in her entire life.

Maybe things would be okay after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to Unpretty on tumblr for coming up with the idea of the Joker's grudge against the clown egg registry, she's awesome and you should check her out if you love Batman.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Depictions of Graphic Violence. 
> 
> So, uh, this chapter gets a little intense. Buckle up.

Dick Grayson

Wayne Manor

Sunday, October 31st, 2012

* * *

Bruce enters Tim's bedroom, smiling at the sight of Tim cooing over Cassie's princess costume while Stephanie and Jason argue over whether or not Jason should be able to break the "No Guns" rule to be an Outlaw. Steph is multi-tasking in order to pin my hair up with sparkly clips while yelling at Jason. I'm also multitasking by texting Babs to figure out tonight's plan. She's coming over at eight, after we've taken Cassie out trick-or-treating. Then we're meeting up with a couple of her gymnastics friends and my friends from the math team to go to Josh's party. It'll be super tame—otherwise there's no way Bruce would ever let me go—but it'll be really nice to just be Dick Grayson, hanging out with his school friends. As much fun as the Team's party would be, I just want to be myself tonight. No mission, no patrol, no training, no masks and no lies. I look up when Bruce clears his throat.

He nods apologetically and says, "There's a meeting at Mount Justice. It can't wait."

The news hits my siblings like a ton of bricks.

"No!" Cassie wails, throwing herself towards me.

"You can't miss Halloween!" Tim cries, "That's gotta be illegal!"

"You have to stay," Steph interrupts, "I can't be a movie star without my cameraman."

"You guys are so dramatic," I tease, "Stay whelmed. I'll be back in time for trick-or-treating."

I slip off Tim's bed, pulling the hair clips out and tossing them back to Steph.

"Don't go without me!" I call back to them as I follow Bruce out the door. My siblings are quick to reassure me that they won't, and then Bruce and I are heading to the Batcave.

I wait until we enter the hidden staircase before asking, "What's the meeting about?"

Batman responds, "We have reason to suspect one of the members of the team is a mole."

"What?!" I stop dead.

Does he know about Slade? He can't. He would have said something before, and he would have left the team out of it. Unless he's trying to psych me out and get me to confess to him.

"Red Arrow received information from Sportsmaster the last time they fought. It's a possibility that it is false, but we can't take that chance."

"Sportsmaster—as in Artemis' dad?! She… she's the mole?!"

"I don't know. It's a possibility, but it is very unlikely."

"But… if it's not her, then who? Batman, these are my teammates! I trust them! None of them could be a traitor!"

"Hopefully you're right about that. Until we can determine the truth, we have to operate under suspicion."

"No! Bruce, there's no way! These are my friends!"

Bruce's hand rests on my shoulder and gives a gentle squeeze. "Dick, I know. I don't want it to be true anymore than you do. But we have to be cautious."

* * *

Mount Justice

* * *

"What do you mean, there's still a mole?" Wally demands.

"I mean, someone on this team is sending information about the Team's activities to the League of Shadows." Roy answers, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You might not know this since you went AWOL on us, but we already dealt with the mole. Red Tornado? Cave Invaders? We all almost died but we're fine now, thanks for asking," Wally shoots back.

"What happened with the Reds was something different. The Team was only targeted to get Red Tornado to the cave. This mole? They were specifically planted to get information from the Team and the League and send it back to the Shadows."

"Batman said you got the tip from Sportsmaster. How can you trust his word over ours? Every member of the team was vouched for by a member of the League." I cross my arms over my chest.

"Not all of them." Roy answers.

"You don't even know Conner!" I retort. "And if you'd talked to him, I don't know, ONCE, you'd know that he would never-"

"He might not mean to," Roy cuts me off. "But he was cloned in a facility with mind-control capabilities. How sure are you that he has any free will at all?"

"Roy, do me a favor and shut up," Wally glares. "Manhunter did a mental sweep on all of us after we got back from Cadmus. We were all clean of any mind control."

"It's true," Kaldur confirms. "Superboy acts of his own volition. And I agree with Robin; unless all aspects of his personality are a ruse, he would never betray League secrets to our enemies."

"And how do you know it's not a ruse?"

"It's called trust, maybe you should try it sometime."

"Robin, please." Kaldur says.

"I just don't believe that anyone on this team would do this! Sportsmaster knew that it would make us suspicious and start pointing fingers. Even having this meeting is exactly what they want us to do!"

Instead of getting mad, Roy just sighs. It hits me that he looks exhausted. I'm basically an expert in not getting enough sleep, but when his guard is down, he looks like he's barely staying on his feet. The tightness in my stomach pulses into full-blown guilt. He's been running himself ragged to find the mole and it might be… it might be me.

"Dick, I know you don't want to believe it, but imagine it's true. Someone on this team is secretly working for the bad guys, stealing League secrets and using them to hurt people. You of all people should understand why it's important to be prepared."

"So let's prepare! What kinds of secrets are getting passed along? Mission reports? Security details? Passwords? It's just as important to know what and how!" I snap, heart pounding.

Please, don't let it be me.

"If you want to give the mole free reign, go ahead and ignore it. I'm going to find out who the mole is, and I will stop them."

"I'm not saying we should ignore it!" I protest. Wally nods.

"Rob's got a point. We already agreed to do a full system reboot, but we'll update everything. A full overhaul, and logs to make sure that the League can see who signed in, what they accessed and when."

"If Batman believes it prudent, we may also consider planting decoys and tracking the response." Kaldur adds.

"Oh, come on! That's the oldest trick in the book! Do you really think anyone will fall for it?!"

"Hey, just 'cause it's simple doesn't mean it won't work." Wally answers.

"And what if we miss whoever it is? What if we change a couple passwords, close a few loops and the mole slips past?" Roy demands. Kaldur puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Then we have prepared ourselves, and we know to expect it. And we will have done it without tearing ourselves apart in the meantime."

Roy glares at him and opens his mouth like he's about to unleash The Sidekick Rant part 8. I wince but the rant never comes.

"Alright." Roy finally says. Kaldur smiles at him. There's a long pause. A really, really long pause.

"Are… you guys okay?" Wally finally breaks the silence.

"Yeah," Roy says at the same time Kaldur answers, "Fine."

"Uh huh…" Wally and I look at each other.

"I believe this is as good a place as any to adjourn. It seems I have much to discuss with Batman and the League." Kaldur says tightly. Roy nods at him and disappears out the door. Kaldur offers us a weak smile, then he's gone too.

"You've got that party tonight right?" Wally asks, kicking the leg of the chair Roy was sitting in.

"Yeah. Are you still going to meet up with the Team?"

"Not really in the mood now." He confesses.

"Same. But I promised I'd take Cassie trick-or-treating and they're all going to be upset if I ditch on them. And Babs too."

"The things you do for people." Wally shrugs. "Happy Halloween, I guess."

There's definitely something going on with him.

"Do you want to come?"

He shrugs again.

"Dude. Use your words. Stop shrugging at me."

"I'm sorry, I just—" He shrugs. I glare at him. "I was really looking forward to that party tonight but with everything that's going on, how can I go and pretend that everything is normal? If what Roy said is true, that means one of our teammates is lying to us. It's crazy! To think that Artemis would… or Megan or Conner would be working for the League of Shadows, it's bullshit!"

I don't say anything.

"But what if it's true? What if one of them really is a spy and we put everyone else in danger by not following the lead? Rob, what do we do?"

"I don't know."

* * *

The Haunt

Wednesday, November 3rd, 2012

* * *

A whooshing sound and a slight breeze are the only warning I get. I barely react in time, bringing my arms above my head in an 'x' to catch the attack. I do a side-kick, meeting the robot's chest. Immediately, I whirl around, swinging my leg so that it slams into the robot's head, sending it crashing to the ground. I get into ready stance, waiting for the next attack. The blindfold over my face is sticky with sweat, and my lungs are burning. I feel a breeze and hear the sound of metal sliding against the floor. I jump into the air, dodging the blow aimed towards my legs. When I land, I hold my hands out in a block, waiting for the next attack.

A fist slams into my cheek, causing the side of my head to erupt in pain. I stumble back, trying to focus. There's another rustling sound and I duck away from the attack aimed towards my head. I manage to avoid the next three blows by ducking and blocking, but the kick in my chest sends me flying back. I roll when I hit the ground and stand up smoothly. I can feel the wall at my back and it gives me an idea. The robot rushes towards me, footsteps pounding on the ground hard and fast, and I wait until the last possible second before diving to the right. The robot crashes into the wall with a loud crash. I say a silent prayer of thanks. If that hadn't worked, I would've been wide open to attack from the back. I get back into a fighting position, waiting for another robot but instead, slow footsteps make their way across the room.

"Blindfold off." I relax and tug the bandanna off, watching as Slade inspects the broken, sparking robot. My chest heaves, beads of sweat rolling off my face and down my neck. He walks over to me and holds out a towel and a water bottle.

"That was exceptional. Your improvement over the past few weeks has far exceeded my expectations."

"Thank you." I say, wiping the towel over my face and downing half the bottle in one go.

"Get cleaned up. Then you can go home."

I walk over to the bench and take another big drink of water. Slade picks up the broken robot and slings it over his shoulder. The robots are big, about the same size as a grown man. They're covered in black metal, with an orange circle over the face. They're programmed to fight, and even though they still have a lot of bugs, they're really hard to beat… without the blindfold. He leaves with the robot. I wipe my face off and sling the towel around my neck before I follow. He stops outside the workshop at the far end of the hallway. I don't know if that's the actual name, but it's the place where Slade builds, fixes and modifies his technology. I've only been inside once, but it's a huge space, full of finished projects and prototypes, scrap metal, giant spools of wire and circuitry.

"If you insist on destroying my robots, you're going to need to learn how to put them together," Slade comments. He opens the door to the workshop and throws the broken robot down on a workbench, near a soldering iron and a case of wires and flux and washers.

"Okay."

I follow him back into the hallway, mind churning. Normally, I would be beside myself with excitement. I've always wanted to build a robot and I already know how to program stuff. I never thought Slade would let me touch any of his real tech. But now, I just want to keep fighting stuff and not think about how one of my closest friends might be a traitor.

"It's too late to begin right now, but I'll give you some information to look over so we can have time next week. And I don't want you touching the machinery until you've finished some sort of safety training."

"Okay." I repeat.

Slade stops walking and looks back at me, his gaze boring a hole in my skull. He opens the nearest door, which opens into the small dining room across from the kitchen. He kicks out one of the chairs and points to it.

"There's something bothering you." It's a statement, not a question.

Hesitantly, I sit down and stare at the ground.

"I don't know how to ask this, but I promise I'm not being disrespectful or anything, but… well the thing is… Speedy- I mean Red Arrow said…" I take a deep breath, gripping the towel for moral support. "There's a mole on the team. Red Arrow wasn't sure who they're working for, but it involves the League of Shadows and probably the Injustice League. Someone's feeding them information from the inside. And I can't… I don't want to… ask but… is it me?"

Slade doesn't say anything for a few moments. He sits at the chair next to me and shakes his head. The pit in my stomach loosens.

"No. It's not. This arrangement is between you and me. Even if it wasn't, nobody in the…" he pauses, "villain community is aware that I'm training a student, much less that it's the Boy Wonder."

"But if it's not me, then who is it?"

"Contrary to what you may believe, I have better things to do than monitor your sidekick team," Slade says, but then he crosses his arms and tells me, "Your archer is Sportsmaster's daughter. His estrangement with his children is well-known, as is the fact that his younger daughter refused to follow in his footsteps. She is not the mole."

"That could just be what they want everyone to believe."

"That's true. However, she was not approached by Batman until a few months ago, and neither Sportsmaster nor her sister Cheshire has had any contact with her in years."

"So it's not Artemis?"

"No."

"What about Superboy? Cadmus could have messed with his brain."

"That is highly likely. However, the League of Assassins, or whoever else may be behind this, would not depend on Superboy to be their sole source of information."

"Why not?" I ask.

"He was rescued from a genetic experimentation lab, where he was known to have been affected by telepathic influences. The Justice League does not trust him enough to reveal important secrets to. The same goes for the Martian girl.

"No. The mole will not be one of your new members. It will be someone that you trust. Someone whose betrayal will hurt."

"They're my teammates. My friends! I trust them with my life! None of them would ever betray the League. Kid Flash and Aqualad would never—" I trail off, the words I'm trying to find failing me.

"Wouldn't they say the same about you?" Slade asks quietly.

My stomach churns.

"That's not the same!" I shout, but the second the words come out of my mouth I know they're lies. I might not be Red Arrow's mole, but no matter what Slade denies, I am a mole. I'm lying to my team, to the League, to Batman. Slade may be helping me, but he's an enemy of the Justice League. And I've given away secrets and exposed some of its weaknesses to him. "I know I agreed to this. I know we had a deal, but Slade, I…I shouldn't be doing this. It's wrong. I just…"

Slade's hand lands on my shoulder.

"I know you're upset about your team but panicking is not productive. We'll keep working tomorrow, but for now, go home. Be with your family."

They way he says it sends a chill down my spine, like what you say to someone after a family member dies. His hand on my shoulder feels menacing, even though he's barely touching me. I can't tell what he's thinking, but he doesn't look angry or upset or anything but calm. I hate that I can't read him.

I just want to go home. I just want this to be over.

Slade doesn't move as I stand up and head for the door, back upstairs to the garage and my motorcycle. He just sits at the table, deep in thought.

* * *

The Haunt

Friday, November 5th, 2012

* * *

Duck. Dodge. Dodge left, right arm block. Jump. Double jab to an uppercut. Duck! Knee block. Spin. Dodge right. Overhead block. Elbow strike to spinning back-kick finish.

"Again."

Thirty-two reps? Is he serious?

I raise my fists and he cracks the targets together to make a bang. Then he's swinging and I fall back into the same pattern I've been doing for almost two hours.

Duck. Dodge. Dodge left, right arm block. Jump. Double jab to an uppercut. Duck! Knee block. Spin. Dodge right. Overhead block. Elbow strike to spinning back-kick finish.

"Again."

Ugh! We must be almost done, right?

Bang!

Duck. Dodge. Dodge left, right arm block. Jump. Double jab to an uppercut. Duck! Knee block. Spin. Dodge right. Overhead block. Elbow strike to spinning back-kick finish.

"Again."

It's probably just five more. That makes an even forty.

"Again."

Or not.

Spin. Dodge right. Overhead block. Elbow strike to spinning back-kick finish.

"Again."

"How many more?" I ask, leaning on my knees to try and catch my breath.

"Until I tell you to stop. Now go again."

And again.

"Can I get water?"

"Again."

Bang!

"Again."

Dodge left, right arm block. Jump. Double jab to an uppercut. Duck under the target, barely moving out of the way fast enough. Dodge right. Overhead block. Elbow strike to spinning back-kick finish. Wipe the sweat off my face, breathe hard to stop myself from falling over.

How many more can there be?

"Again."

That's it. I'm done.

"Come on! We've already done this drill fifty times!" I throw my hands in the air in frustration.

"Do it again." Slade repeats, crossing his arms.

"No! You said we were going to be in the Workshop building robots this session, not doing the same sparring drill for hours! I'm done!"

I match Slade's gaze. His face is a blank mask and I refuse to back down. Finally, he nods and the corner of his lip curls up slightly.

"If you're sure you don't want to do this…"

I cross my arms.

"Fine."

Yes! Before he can change his mind, I start to move towards the pile of discarded targets to put them away. Slade's voice stops me.

"Leave it. I'll clean up later."

I look up in confusion. The hairs on the back of my neck prick up suddenly and all I can think is that there's something wrong about this. When has he ever given in before?

"It's no problem-" I start, but Slade cuts me off.

"I said, leave it."

Sheesh. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the evil lair.

"Follow me." Slade says as he disappears through the doorway. By the time I catch up to him, he's opening a door at the end of the hallway.

"Go through the next two doors and wait for me."

I glance up at him as I walk through the first door, resisting the urge to point out that the Workshop is the other way. I shiver when the door closes behind me and the lock clicks. My stomach clenches. This was a bad idea. A very bad idea. There's nowhere else to go except for the open door at the end of the hallway so I follow Slade's directions and find myself standing at the end of a brightly lit hallway. Like the rest of the complex, the walls are pale gray steel and the ceiling is white.

My fingers twitch and my heart pounds. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, counting to ten in my head. Then I do it again, but count to fifteen. Then twenty. What happens now? It's a dead end and there's nowhere for me to run. What's he going to do? Wait, no, don't think about that. That's not helpful.

The door opens and I jump a foot into the air. Slade is holding a roll of blue pre-wrap and a roll of white athletic tape.

"What are those for?"

"I thought you were an athlete, Richard. Taping prevents injury and provides support," he says cryptically. Before I can answer, he reaches towards the wall behind me. When he presses it, a panel raises and he pulls it to the side. The hidden door slides open, revealing a dark room. Still holding the door open, he turns towards me.

"In."

Slowly, I walk forwards and enter the dark space. As I move in, my eyes start to make out large shapes. Slade closes the door behind me with a loud bang and the lights turn on, suddenly illuminating the space. My eyes close reflexively, and when I open them, my heart stops.

It's an interrogation room.

I whirl around, dropping into a fighting stance. Slade is still standing near the wall, watching me. He looks unimpressed.

"What are you doing?!" I demand, tense and ready to move in whatever direction I have to. The room has a flat ceiling, with no beams or ventilation pipes that I can escape to.

"Something I should have done a long time ago." He responds coolly. He nods his head to the right. "Take a seat."

I glance over and see a high-backed metal chair.

"Yeah, I'm going to have to go with a no on that one."

"You are out of chances. Do not make this difficult."

"Sure, that sounds like a great plan, Slade. I'd just love to sit in your freaky murder chair while you torture me. Sounds like fun!"

The lights go out. I close my eyes, listening for any clue of where Slade is. Something skitters across the floor to my left. I take a step to my right and raise my-

Slade's fist connects with my diaphragm. The air rushes out of my lungs and I double over coughing. I struggle as he drags me over to the chair, but my arms are clutching my stomach and I don't stand a chance. When he pushes me into the chair, he keeps his arm pressed against my chest to hold me in place. I try to twist out of his grip so I can slide out. The lights turn on again and black spots obscure my vision. Metal starts rattling, and something freezing cold closes around my neck with a click.

"No!" I shout. Slade pulls on the chain, slamming my head against the back of the chair and my hands reach for my neck to stop the metal collar from strangling me. If I press my back flat against the chair, I can breathe but I can't move my head.

"Let me go!" I wheeze.

Slade crouches down in front of me and I can't see what he's doing. I kick out, trying to knock him away, but something clamps around my legs and pulls them against the chair. He adds cuffs around my ankles and just like that, I'm totally pinned down.

"Let me go!" I shout, twisting and writhing. Slade looms over me menacingly.

"It's time you understood something, Richard. You do not get to do whatever you want. I have been incredibly patient with you, but you continue to be insolent. As a result, you have lost the right to move until you can show me respect."

"You can't do that!"

"Can't I? Make a fist."

"Why?"

He holds up the roll of pre-wrap so I can see it. "I'm going to tape your hand. I can either use this or tape your bare skin."

"What? No!"

Stars explode in my vision and the right side of my face burns.

"Make. A. Fist." He raises his hand to hit me again and I panic.

I flinch when he grabs my hand but he wraps it quickly with the pre-wrap and covers it in athletic tape. Then he rips off a big strip and secures my hand to the arm of the chair. He does the same to my other arm, not bothering to wait for me to hold it out. He ties ropes around my elbows, shoulders and knees, binding each tightly against the chair. When he finally steps back, I can't move.

At all.

The collar pins my head to the back of the chair so there's no way to turn. My legs are locked down and something around my waist that goes through the chair stops me from shifting to either side. Slade wrapped them so tightly that I can't wiggle my fingers. I've never felt so trapped in my entire life. I've never needed to move as much as I do right now but I can't. I can't move. Everything itches and my back hurts and I just need… I need to move!

"Slade, please!" I'm begging now. Slade crouches, lowering his face until it fills my vision.

"Do not forget, Richard. You. Are. Mine. Everything you have is something I have given you. And I can take all of it away. Do you understand me?"

My jaw locks and my teeth grind against each other so I can bite back the stream of curses that will just make this worse. How could I have missed this? Slade is evil and twisted and he always has been. I glare at him with as much hatred as I can muster. My stomach freezes when Slade grins slowly.

"You're adorable," he says and his fingers dig into my chin in a steel grip. I can't move away, and the tight grip quickly becomes agonizing. I grit my teeth even harder and refuse to cry out.

"I own you, Richard. You belong to me. You would be dead without me. Think about that for a little while."

The fingers suddenly release my chin and the pain immediately starts to fade.

"Let me out!" I growl, blocking out his words. He starts to move towards the door and panic sets in.

"Let me go! Let me out of here! Slade!" I strain against the bindings as hard as I can but they don't budge.

"Screw you!" I scream, "I hate you! I wish you were dead!"

Slade stops. Very slowly, he turns around.

"You just lost the right to talk."

"Fuck you! Let me OUT!"

"And for that charming message, you lose the right to see. Would you like to find out what else I can take from you?"

The shout that comes out of my mouth isn't words. It's just sound and rage as Slade disappears behind me. When he reappears, there's a thick wad of cloth in his hands. I clench my jaw shut, trying to fight back the terror.

"No more brave words?" Slade taunts. "If I had taught you to keep your mouth shut sooner, we could have avoided this."

His fingers close around my jaw and wrench my mouth open with brute strength and it feels like the world's worst muscle pull. As soon as it's open, he shoves the gag in so far that I almost throw up.

"MMMMFGEJGJHHGDLF!"

"You will learn respect." He says in my ear. "And I suggest that you try not to think about how much your nose itches right now."

Then he blindfolds me and leaves me trapped in the dark.

* * *

I struggle, writhing and pulling and twisting and tugging but nothing happens. Whatever Slade did, I can't get out of it. I'm trapped. My muscles are tensed and sore and my joints hurt from sitting still. It's like a million ants are crawling over my body and inside my skin and I want to scream and cry but anything deeper than a breath through my nose makes me gag. I recite the alphabet backwards to give my brain something to do. Then I count backwards from one hundred. Then I recite prime numbers in Spanish. The itch on my nose has gotten progressively worse but I can't reach it no matter which way I strain and my skin is buzzing like it's stuffed with bees and I think I'm going crazy.

Slade won't leave me here. He'll come back and let me out. And as soon as he does, I'm going straight to Batman. I'm going to tell him everything, and then Batman and the League will destroy Slade and put him away for good.

He thinks he owns me?! That he can do this to me?! Slade doesn't own me! I don't owe him anything, even if he did save my life!

"_You would be dead without me. Think about that."_

* * *

I start counting.

_One. Two Three._

I bite down on the gag even tighter before relaxing my jaw. By some miracle, it shifts the cloth forward a tiny bit, just enough that breathing won't make me throw up. My fingers are numb and trying to move them just makes my whole arm sting.

* * *

_Four hundred eighty-eight. Four hundred eighty-nine. Four hundred ninety._

I never asked Slade to save my life. And besides, how many times have I saved someone else's life and never asked for anything in return? How often has Batman saved my life without ever ordering me around like a slave?

* * *

_Three thousand eleven. Three thousand twelve. Three thousand thirteen._

Why didn't I tell Batman the truth? Why didn't I get help before it was too late?

* * *

_Six thousand two hundred fifty-four. Six thousand two hundred fifty-five._

Why did I talk back to Slade? What did I think was going to happen?

* * *

_Nine thousand seven hundred forty-two. Nine thousand seven hundred forty-three._

He wouldn't leave me here. He won't. Won't he?

* * *

_Ten thousand._

My whole body is numb, and even the tiniest movement I make sends pins and needles jabbing up and down my arms. Everything is shaking, and my stomach clenched in on itself, giving me waves of pain and hunger.

Humans can survive three to five days without water, and almost a month without food. If Slade doesn't come back, it'll take me three days to die. Three days tied to a chair, every part of my body in pain or totally numb, waiting to die.

I don't want to die.

I shouldn't count. It'll just make it worse.

Even if I was going to, I lost count.

* * *

_Fourteen thousand one hundred thirty. Fourteen thousand one hundred thirty one._

The tear tracks have dried out, sticking to my cheeks and everything itches so badly it feels like my face is burning. I scream even though my throat is already raw and struggle as hard as I can, giving one last burst of energy to try and break free.

I can't get out.

My body is shaking from the effort and I slump against the ropes, relaxing into the bonds instead of trying to pull myself loose. My arms are numb from lack of circulation and my back is screaming from being in the same place for too long. The only things I can hear are my own breathing and the loud rumbling from my stomach.

The inside of my mouth is dry and my lips are so chapped they're starting to bleed. My head is pounding and between the dehydration and the lack of circulation to my arms and legs, I feel so dizzy I can't hold myself up. The pressure on my joints is so much worse from leaning into the ropes and I would scream if my voice wasn't already gone.

Everything hurts so badly that the pain is just a constant pulsing wave that jumps from limb to limb to my head and my back and my stomach.

He's going to come back. He has to come back.

* * *

_Twenty thousand six hundred eleven. Twenty thousand six hundred twelve._

I'll do anything.

* * *

There's a creaking sound, so soft it has to be a hallucination.

But it happens again and there's no mistaking the sound of the door swinging open, or the heavy footsteps pacing slowly into the room.

My breath catches in my throat and my heart pounds with equal parts hope and sheer panic.

"Have you learned your lesson, Richard?" Slade asks smoothly. The question sends a wave of terror down my spine so bad my whole body shakes. "I'm going to take the gag out and ask you a few questions. I expect an honest response."

There's a tugging sensation as he pulls the gag out. The sudden loss of pressure on my tongue makes me cough so badly I start dry heaving and that makes me even dizzier. A spike of pain shoots through my head from lack of oxygen and my chest aches so I gasp for air in the middle of my violent coughing fit.

"Take a few seconds." Slade says coldly. I choke down the rest of the coughs, desperately forcing my breathing under control. He's going to get mad at me again and leave me in here and if he does, he might not come back. My body won't stop shaking and my stomach is revolting against the rest of me and I'm going to throw up and Slade decides he's given me enough time to recover.

"Did you like that?"

The words cut straight through my body like a bucket of ice water being dumped over my head and I shiver uncontrollably but I still can't move and everything hurts and is numb at the same time.

"nn.." I try to answer, but my throat screams in pain and my voice is so raw the sound refuses to come out. "Nnn."

I hear footsteps again and I panic.

"Nnn! _Ple-!" _My voice breaks halfway through and it hurts so badly that my eyes burn, but there's no more tears left. I writhe against the restraints in a blind panic.

Don't leave me here again!

Please!

NO!

"Stop." Slade orders.

I freeze.

Something smooth presses against my lower lip while Slade puts his hand on my head.

"Drink."

He tilts the glass up and I gulp down water like I've never had any in my entire life. It's cold and smooth and I forget how badly my throat hurts until Slade pulls the glass away after three gulps.

"That's enough." He says.

"_No!"_

His hand tightens in my hair, sending a wave of pain down.

"What was that?"

I swallow nervously. My throat still feels raw and my mouth feels horrifyingly dry but it's not excruciating to talk.

"…_more."_

"You're still thirsty, Richard?"

I try to nod.

"Well? What do you say?"

Hope springs up in my chest and I chase it.

"_please"_

"Please what?"

"_Please… more… water"_

The glass presses up to my lip again and I almost cry in relief, but he doesn't move.

"This seems like a very good moment to remind you that you don't know what I may have put in here." Slade says. His thumb is rubbing circles in my hair and the feeling sends goosebumps down my spine. "As you already know, there are a nearly endless number of undetectable chemicals I might have added. You took an enormous risk for a very small payout. Tell me why."

He's still holding the water glass up to my face and I can almost taste it. I don't know what's worse; he might have just drugged me, I would still do anything to drink the maybe-drugged water, he won't stop touching my head, and there's nothing I can do about any of it.

He can do anything to me and we both know it.

"…thirsty."

"You were thirsty. Desperately thirsty?"

Trying not to cry, I do my best to nod. The collar pinches the skin and I jerk back, but Slade's hand holds my head in place.

"So it was a matter of survival?" He doesn't wait for an answer before saying, "Or is there another reason? A much, much more important reason?"

I'm trying so hard to ignore the glass of water still taunting me that I can barely hear him.

"Tell me, Richard, do you think there's another reason?"

"yes."

"What do you think that reason is?"

"you told me to." I whisper.

"And why is that such an important reason?"

I feel tears drip down through the blindfold. The tear tracks feel like acid against my skin and I can't do anything about it and I can't even stop my voice from shaking.

"Because… you're… I…"

Suddenly, Slade rips off the blindfold and I cringe against the sudden influx of light, hissing in pain as the sight of it burns my retinas.

"Why, Richard?" Slade demands, the shout ringing through the room and the light is too bright and I can't flinch or curl into a ball and there's nothing I can do to escape the fact that I… that Slade… I…

"I belong to you."

"Are you crying?"

"Yes," I whimper.

"Why are you crying?" His voice is empty and cold and pointed and the last bit of control I have breaks and I start sobbing.

"I don't want to belong to you!" I scream, voice hoarse from screaming into the gag but I'm crying and desperate and there's nothing left for me to hold on to. Slade waits and I cry, and the part of me that's not desperate and lost and hopeless doesn't want to stop crying because it's delaying the inevitable and I need every single second but there's no point because suddenly the tears stop coming and the heaving cries fade.

"What are you going to do about it?"

I should feel pain. I should feel anger. I should feel hopeless or scared or… or… or something, but I just feel numb.

"Whatever you tell me to do."

"Good. Look at me."

I raise my head. The look on his face is terrifying, so I look at his eyepatch instead.

"Who are you?"

"Richard Grayson." I mumble.

"That's not what I asked you." Slade says in a low voice. "Your name is irrelevant. I asked you who you are. I want an answer."

"I'm your apprentice."

"Who do you belong to?"

"I…"

I can't say it again.

Slade sighs.

"We'll try again in a few days."

My heart stops.

Days?

He takes a step towards me, raising the blindfold to cover my face again and I scream.

"NO! NO! PLEASE! PLEASE NO DON'T‼‼ PLEASE!"

Slade puts down the blindfold and I can barely breathe.

"I want you to remember this feeling." Slade says. His voice is so quiet I can barely hear it over the sound of my heartbeat. "This terror, this desperation, and how lucky you are that this one time, your begging is enough. However else you choose to spend your time, whatever alliances you've built, whatever friends you've made, all of it is superficial. The only thing that is real is your allegiance to me. Do you understand?"

I nod with a whispered, "Yes."

"If you tell anyone about your true allegiances, I promise you that what you've just experienced is NOTHING compared to what I will do to you. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good. Who are you?"

"I'm your apprentice."

"What's your name?"

"Ri—Renegade."

"Beyond that, what are you?"

"Nothing. I'm nothing."

"Who do you belong to?"

"I belong to you."

"Good." He holds up the glass of water again and brings it up to my mouth. "Drink."

When the glass is empty, he smooths my hair down and leans closer.

"Do you see how much easier this is when you're obedient?"

"Yes."

"Am I going to have to teach you this lesson again?"

"Never."

He reaches for something I can't see and there's a clicking sound, like something being uncapped. Slade holds up the syringe to the light and flicks it to shake out the air bubbles. I swallow, staring with wide eyes.

"I am going to inject you with this. When I'm done, I will let you out. You are not going to protest."

"What is it?" I whisper.

"I know you pride yourself on your lack of enhanced abilities. After this, that will no longer be strictly true."

No. No. No! He can't do that!

But he can.

I bite my tongue to stop myself from shouting out something I'll regret. There's nothing I can do to stop him. If I cooperate it'll be quick and he'll let me out. No matter how badly I want to stop him, anything I do will just make it so, so much worse.

"Good boy." I flinch as Slade lines up the needle with the vein on my forearm. Tears drip down my face and I bite down on my tongue even harder. But then Slade pulls the needle away and holds up the folded-up gag. "Bite down. I don't want you to bite your tongue off."

It's the hardest thing I've ever done, but I force myself to bite down on the fabric without protesting. He lines up the syringe again and I squeeze my eyes shut.

"For what it's worth, you won't remember this part." Slade says. Then he presses the plunger and the world catches on fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I regret nothing.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Thoughts of suicide, unconventional self-harm.

Dick Grayson

Date: ?

Location: ?

* * *

"Drink."

* * *

I sit bolt upright, coughing and spitting but there's nothing in my mouth, no bitter after-taste or fuzziness from the drugs. It would be like waking up from the world's easiest night sleep except for the one word command floating through my brain. Slade drugged me. He told me the water was drugged and I still drank it.

No. It wasn't real. It was a dream. It had to have been a dream, because this is my room. I'm in Wayne Manor, I'm home, and my world isn't ending.

It wasn't real. It wasn't. It can't have been.

I scramble for the light switch, pushing my sheets off and sending pillows tumbling to the floor. When the lights turn on, my heart stops. I'm wearing the same blue shorts and cotton t-shirt I wore to training yesterday. There are scraps of prewrap stuck to my wrists and tiny red welts in the shape of ropes along my elbows and knees.

It was real. It was real. Slade really… I was…

I suck in a breath and grab at my hair, trying to keep myself from panicking. As I turn, I notice the note on my bedside table. My hands are shaking when I try to pick it up, and I have to sit down to read it.

_"Dick,_

_You were asleep when we got home last night and I didn't want to wake you. Stephanie's ballet recital went well. She's very talented and Alfred recorded the whole thing. It would mean a lot to her if you look at the video and come up with some specific compliments. Everyone missed you at dinner; Tim decided we were going to Mars 2112 in Midtown and it was a big success. Even Jason liked it, although he only rated their burgers an eight out of twelve on his rating scale. Hopefully, you won't have a mathletes competition for the next performance. It really was adorable._

_I'm sorry again that I didn't remind you about it sooner. Hope you slept well and that you have a productive day today._

_-Bruce"_

Oh god.

Stephanie had a ballet recital last night. Alfred took videos on that old-timey camcorder he refuses to upgrade. Bruce took everyone out to a campy space-themed restaurant afterwards. My family was out having fun while I thought I was going to die alone in an underground bunker. Jason, Tim, Steph and Cassie were eating burgers while Slade broke me.

How did I even get home last night? Did Slade take me? Did he break into the house? Was he in my room? Did he put me in my bed while I was drugged and unconscious?

He knew nobody was home last night. He can get around the manor's security, especially if Hardison helped him hack in. What if he got into the batcave? What if he piggybacked onto the manor's security network? He could be watching me right now. He could be watching all of us, everything that we do. And I can't stop him. I can't tell Bruce or Alfred that he's watching us, because he'll see. He'll take me away and I'll never see any of them again.

Slade let me go. He let me go back to the manor and it wasn't because he trusts me to come back. He can take me anytime he wants. Nothing can stop him, not Bruce, not Batman, not the Justice League and not me.

He

owns

me.

I belong to him.

I sit on the ground, back pressed against the door while I try to remember how to breathe. When I bring my hands up to my face, I see the ink on the back of my left hand. For a horrible heart-stopping second, I think it's a tattoo. Then I realize it's a note, written in black sharpie.

"Tonight 7pm"

Oh god. Get it off. I need it off.

* * *

Scalding hot water pours down over my head, making clouds of steam rise when it hits the cold tile. I stand numbly under the shower head and wish it was even hotter. I want the water to burn me, to eat through my skin like acid so I can dissolve until I'm just a puddle on the ground that gets flushed down the drain and disappears forever.

The left side of my body is numb from the heat, so I shift and pull my right arm under the jet. I bite my cheek to stop myself from screaming, but the pain still isn't enough. I'm dirty from the inside out and nothing is ever going to make me clean again. Everything is shaking and it has nothing to do with the hot water. I reach for the bottle of shampoo and it slips through my fingers, hitting the ground with a bang that scares me badly enough to break through the layers of numbness. My knees hit the ground, and then I'm on all fours on the floor of my shower, boiling water pouring over my back. Blood pools out from my scraped knees, swirling with the water and gliding across white tiles.

It's never going to be okay.

I don't know when I started crying, but now that I am, I'm sobbing. The water hitting the tile and the bathroom's ventilation cover the sound as I scream and sob and grab at my hair.

Slade owns me. I belong to him. He can do whatever he wants to me and I have to obey him because If I don't, he'll take me away forever. He knows everything about me; he didn't need to hurt me to break me. He just took everything away. All he had to do to break me was make me completely helpless and then wait.

I'm pathetic. I'm a monster. I'm a liar. I'm a traitor. I'm a mole, I'm a weapon that Slade can use to do whatever he wants. I can't stop him. I'm terrified of him, to find out what he'll do if I ever try to disobey him. I can't fight him, I can't get away from him, and I can't stop him. The only thing I can do is keep the act up as long as I can so he doesn't take me away from Bruce, from my family, my friends and from Robin.

My legs are blocking the drain and the water is rising. It's high enough to cover the fingers that are pressed tightly against the tile floor. All you need to drown is enough water to cover your nose and mouth. This is more than enough. I could knock myself out, make sure my body keeps the drain blocked, and never wake up. It would all be over. Slade can't hurt me if I'm dead.

My stomach churns violently at the thought and that's the only warning I get before I throw up.

* * *

The Haunt

* * *

My heart pounds and my breaths get shorter. Every step towards the office door echoes like a gunshot and I might as well be made of glass. My hand trembles as I reach for the doorknob. The door opens unceremoniously. My laptop is open for me on my desk. Slade doesn't look up when I walk into the office, doesn't say anything at all. I sit in the folding chair, wincing at the loud squeak it makes. Slade doesn't turn and I let out a breath of relief. Hardison is waiting on me, so I launch the coding program and open the chat.

'_Hey! Long time no see! Where you been, man?'_

The casual banter sends me reeling. He sounds exactly the same way that he always does. Nothing has changed for him at all. The fact that my entire life is a lie and that Slade… owns me… none of that affects him at all.

He's waiting for a response, so I type.

'_Busy.'_

'_No worries. We've got a lot to do today. I'm going to show you how to set up fake ID's, degrees, backgrounds and qualifications. It's kind of different than our usual but it's really important for you to know. Just in case.'_

In case I need to run away and never be found.

'_Alright. So first, we need to choose a name. I like using Doctor Who characters, cause then you can tell who the nerds are when you introduce yourself, but anything is cool.'_

If this was any other day, in any other circumstance, I might have smiled. But now, I just feel numb. I'm not sure if numb is better than sick.

'_John Doe.'_

'_Not what I was going for, but alright.'_

Then he starts pulling up screens with different search bars and social media sites and code is flashing across the screen too fast for me to follow. He shows me how to start setting up a new identity building it from the bottom up. It's a complicated process. You have to falsify a birth certificate in the correct format, which apparently can be tricky because some places change the layout a lot and others have had the same format for centuries, and depending on how deep you go, you might need to add a hospitalization record for the fake pregnant mother. Then you need a passport, and a registered social security number, which is an entire lesson for another day. Once this is set up, then you have to create a background. This can be as simple as three or four social media accounts with registration dates falsified to look more than a day old. You can also fake school records, report cards, transcripts, a weird assortment of awards, work with community service groups, or anything else that leaves a trail to show the person actually exists.

'_I do a lot of work with a grifter,'_ Hardison types midway through writing an article about Mr. Doe's victory in a local gardening competition_, 'To sell the story, you need google results. If Sophie introduces herself as the CFO of Robotech, then there had better be some convincing results when the mark searches her or the con is blown.'_

'_Who's Sophie?'_

'_The CFO of Robotech.'_

'_Very funny.'_

'_As of right now, she is the CFO. In two days… she'll be something else.'_

'_And you'll have to make her a new ID?'_

'_You got it.'_

He finishes the gardening article with the address of the community gardens somewhere in Oaksdale.

'_And….'_

The typing stops. I wait, but it doesn't continue. He probably wants me to post the article.

'_What should the publishing date be?_' I type.

He doesn't respond. I bite my lip and look over the screen carefully. Nothing changes. After a couple seconds, I glance to the side. Slade's desk is empty. I whip around, expecting him to be standing over me, but he's not there. The office is empty.

That's… weird. I didn't see him leave. I click refresh a few times, but Hardison still isn't responding. Slade's computer is still open to the page he was working on. I freeze. That's definitely not right. He's never left the page open if he isn't in the room. He always locks the computer if he's going to check something else. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong.

I leave the office and head towards the exit that leads back up to the garage. None of the doors are locked. I sprint up the stairs, taking them three at a time. Slade isn't in the fake office. My backpack is though, sitting right where I left it next to the door. And my phone is pinging like crazy. I grab my cell phone from the outside pocket and look down at the messages. I have five missed calls from Wally, Jason and Babs. I open messenger and see fifteen messages from Wally. They're a combination of "Where are you?" and "CAVE ASAP."

What the hell is going on?!

I grab my backpack and run outside. It looks like the end of the world. Four cars are piled up in the middle of the street, fenders and bumpers smashed in. A lamppost is knocked on its side and the street is flooding from where one car destroyed a fire hydrant. Kids are running around frantically, tugging at the car doors. Some of them are crying and they all look terrified. I run over to the blue Toyota, where a group of boys are trying to smash the window.

"What's going on?" I shout, trying to scare them off. A boy with a buzz cut, jeans and a faded soccer jersey points at the window.

"We gotta get her out!"

There's a toddler in her car-seat, screaming and crying. There's a cut on the side of her face and blood drips down her cheek. There's no sign of a parent.

"Get a coat hanger!" Someone yells, and there's a flurry of action while someone runs into their apartment, then a dismembered coat hanger is being shoved through the window. The buzz cut kid pulls the car door open and frees the girl from her car seat, pulling her out of the wreckage. She screams and writhes and cries and he does his best to comfort her. I turn to the girl with the coat hanger. She might be twelve.

"Are there any more kids trapped?"

She shakes her head, frizzy black hair bouncing with the motion.

"She's the last one."

"What's going on?"

The girl looks at me, terror in her eyes.

"The grownups are gone."

I stare at her in shock.

Gone?

"What's your name?"

"Mimi."

"Okay. I'm Richard. Do you know where the high school is?"

She nods slowly, pointing towards Third Avenue. It's only a few blocks from here.

"Can you help me get as many people as possible there? We need somewhere that's safe for the little kids to keep them all together."

She nods, determination filling her eyes.

"Shaniya! Jacob!" She shouts and two kids her age run over. She starts giving them instructions, telling them to get their siblings and start directing people. Within minutes, all the kids in their neighborhood have started migrating towards the high school. Turns out Mimi is a natural and everything looks under control here. My phone pings again and it's another frantic text from Wally in all caps. Shit, I have to get to the cave. It takes me sixty seconds to sprint to the zeta beam, but it feels way too long. The other neighborhoods aren't nearly as well organized, and some of the car accidents look even worse than King Street. I don't have enough time to stop. Slipping on my sunglasses, I rush into the phone booth and slam the door.

"Recognized. Robin. B-01."

The light fades with a whir and suddenly a blur of yellow is smashing into me.

"Where have you been?!" Wally shouts, "Batman said you had work to do but then they disappeared and Jason had no idea where you were and Babs didn't know either!"

"Wally, I'm here now. And I set up a bunch of kids at Gotham North on the way."

"This is bad, Rob. I'm freaking out."

"So am I, but you have to start freaking in. We need to pretend to be calm for the rest of the world." I don't know how the words come out so smoothly. I've been numb since I first realized Slade wasn't at the computer. Wally nods.

"Get changed. Aqualad wants the three of us to do a full-coverage broadcast."

"Alright. Give me two minutes and I'll set it up."

Wally pulls his goggles down. "I'll go tell everyone you're here. They were worried."

"I'm sorry," I call after him as he speeds off.

I make my way to my room, shutting the door behind me. Bruce insisted that I keep a few spare uniforms in here. I guess he was right. I pull out my Robin uniform, but before I can put it on, it hits me.

All the adults are gone.

That means Bruce is gone, Alfred is gone, the Justice League is gone… and Slade is gone.

He's gone.

My legs give out and I drop to the floor for the second time in two days. He's gone. He can't hurt me. He can't do anything to me.

And I have to bring him back.

No.

Stop. Don't think about that. I'm Robin. It's Robin's job to save people and the entire world is counting on him. On me. I have a job to do and I'm going to do it, no matter what it costs me. For the people in danger and the lives at stake.

* * *

The Watchtower has a protocol for this. In case of emergencies, there's a program that will automatically connect the Justice League's broadcast channel to every tv, cell-phone and radio in the world. When I walk in, Kaldur puts a hand on my shoulder and says solemnly, "We were very worried. I'm glad to have you here."

Then we set up the emergency broadcast and walk to the center of the training floor. Kid Flash and I make our way to Aqualad's sides. He nods and I start the broadcast.

"Children and teenagers of Earth, I am Aqualad. These are my friends, Kid Flash and Robin."

"We are using Justice League tech to cast and stream to every TV, radio, smartphone, and computer on the planet," I say.

"We know you must be scared, and angry. We know that with your parents gone, there's a temptation to run wild, but please, stay calm," Kid Flash says.

"We will find a way to bring the adults back. But for now, the oldest among you must step up." Aqualad adds.

"Anyone with EMT training, no matter how basic, we will need your services to help anyone injured in car crashes. We will attempt to provide medical supplies to areas in need." Kid Flash instructs.

"Boy scout and girl scout troops. We are tasking you with setting up basic refuges inside high school gymnasiums. It will be up to you to organize the children in your areas." I say.

"Robin is developing an application to call for immediate aid. If someone needs medical assistance or emergency supplies, we will ensure that you get it. It is up to everyone to make sure that as many children as possible are accounted for. Make sure that all your siblings, friends and neighbors are accounted for."

"To anyone with experience with infants, please contact us immediately so that we can set up a care system for newborns."

"We have to work together to keep each other safe," I say.

"It is up to you," Aqualad finishes.

I cut off the transmission.

"It'll take me a few minutes to get the app running. I can just repurpose some of the code for our communicators."

"Good." Aqualad turns to Artemis and Zatanna, "Start setting up a refuge in Happy Harbor. Kid Flash, you do the same in Central city. Superboy, Miss Martian, the three of us will visit all the sites of major accidents and crash landings. Save everyone you can."

Just like that, the cave is empty, somber and silent. It takes me a few minutes to get the app running, and immediately it's downloaded thousands of times. Requests for aid start pouring in, and I project every message above the training floor. Most of them are supply requests. I apologize to Bruce for what this is going to do to his credit card bill, and open twitter. Wally convinced me, Roy and Kaldur to make superhero twitter accounts, and even though Robin has only posted once, I've already gotten ten-thousand followers.

"If you need emergency supplies, take what you need from local stores. Be reasonable."

And post.

It helps, and in the next few minutes most of the smaller supply requests have been resolved. But a lot of people still need help. Luckily, some junior EMT groups have started posting their locations on Facebook, so I can connect some of the emergencies to nearby help.

It's still not enough.

Kid Flash zooms back into the cave.

"Central city is set. I checked every car on the road and cleared out all the kids. A couple scout troops are making rounds. How did you think of that?"

"They've got some emergency training and uniforms." I point at the hundreds of emergency requests still floating in the center of the room. "We need to take care of these."

"Just tell me where."

And he's off.

Over the next two hours, I direct Kid Flash, Miss Martian, Superboy and Aqualad around the globe to rescue kids in need and bring them to safety. When Artemis and Zatanna get back, I send them out to organize the babysitters who responded to our request. Soon, the enormous maternity ward at Yale New Haven Hospital is packed full of newborns and infants, with an army of six hundred teenage volunteers keeping watch over them.

At five sixteen in the afternoon, the emergency requests run out.

My eyes burn from staring at the screen for so long and my back is aching, but I can finally let out a breath.

"Return to the cave," I announce over the com link, "That's the last of them."

I open the direct link to the batcave, crossing my fingers that I'll get an answer. I need to make sure that they're okay. Jason's face fills the screen.

"What took you so long?!" He shouts. Cassie whimpers off screen and he turns to her with an apology.

"I'm so sorry guys. I've been organizing rescues."

"Babs and Bette brought fifty kids to the manor. It's closer than Gotham Academy." Jason reports, ignoring my apology.

"Is everyone okay?"

"Most of the rich kids stayed in their houses. All the high schools are packed with kids. Did you see that SafeRides is trending on the app store? Anyone with a license can volunteer to drive kids who are stranded and the call centers are packed."

"That's great." The ball of worry in my chest finally starts to loosen. No matter what else is happening, my family is safe.

"People are actually pretty calm. That was a good speech." Jason gives me a small, reassuring smile.

"Thanks, Jay. I have to go now. The Team is doing everything we can to bring the adults back. Everything is going to be okay."

"Good luck."

* * *

"Can you try Zatara's locator spell?" I ask Zatanna.

"It's more than just the words to the spell! It takes training and years of work. Robin, I'm just not on Zatara's level."

"Look, I know it's hard but try to stay whelmed. We'll find your dad, Batman, all of them. It's what we do."

"How are you so calm right now? The whole world is counting on us! What if we can't fix this?! Why aren't you scared?"

Why am I not scared? Because this is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Miss Martian turns away from the disaster tracker to give me a worried glance, but I shake my head at her, just small enough that Zatanna won't notice.

"I told you, Zee. This is part of the gig," I say with a comforting smile and after a second, Zatanna nods back with renewed determination. I can feel Miss Martian's eyes on my back but she doesn't say anything, either out loud or through a mindlink.

"Can you give me a minute to figure out the spell?" Zatanna asks.

"Take all the time you need," Miss Martian answers kindly.

Zatanna nods firmly and heads towards the empty living room. On the holographic disaster tracker, blue dots representing our teammates race from one red spot to the next. Kid Flash and Artemis are covering a traffic pileup in Midtown, while Superboy and Aqualad took the bioship to stop a dam from breaking in Colorado.

"Are you okay?" Miss Martian asks softly once our newest teammate is out of earshot.

"I'm fine."

"That's… not what I meant. You don't want this to end, do you?"

"M'gann…"

"He's gone, isn't he?"

"Yeah. He is. And we're doing everything we can to bring him back."

"I'm sorry, Robin."

I sigh, sitting against the wall of the briefing room. I let my head rest on the rocks, staring at the disaster alert system on the training floor. The holographic globe spins and the blue dots are moving again.

"I could run. Right now. I'd just put together a disguise, take a zeta and lay low until he gives up looking."

M'gann sits across from me where she can watch the entrances in case anyone comes back.

"Where would you go?" Her voice is full of concern, but also a hint of encouragement.

"I don't know. I could leave the country, hide out somewhere in Europe. Maybe I could move to Amish country. Somewhere that I can stay off the grid, where he wouldn't be able to track me down."

"Everyone would try to find you. Not just him. Batman and the rest of the League would stop at nothing to find you."

I hug my arms around my knees.

"I know. I'm not going to run, I just… I'm so tired, M'gann. I…" I let out a soft laugh full of self-hatred. "I don't want to run. I don't want to lose my family again, or my life, or any of you guys. Besides, the kind of setup I'd need to do; put together safe houses, get enough food, cash, setup fake id's, try and start my life over… If I did it, it'd be too tempting not to use it. And I don't want to run."

M'gann is quiet for a while. Then she asks, "If something does happen… what would you do? Please, I need to know."

"Like if I ran away from everyone?"

"Yeah."

"I'd get out of town. Gotham is the center of everything, I'd have to leave. But not too far. No zetas, nothing related to Robin. Maybe a taxi or a train or something. I don't know. M'gann, I can't run away." I snort. "You know, for the first time in years, I can do whatever I want. There's nobody telling me what to do or where to go or what lies to tell, and instead of being free, I'm doing everything I can to bring him back."

"You need to tell Batman, or the League. This had to end."

"No!"

She jumps at the anger in my words, the terror that only knows one way to express itself.

"I can't."

M'gann is quiet for a second.

"Something happened, didn't it?"

I can feel the collar around my neck and the metal restraints digging into my wrists and knees and stomach and my fingers are tingling from being bound together. He could have changed his mind yesterday. He could have left me in the room until I died. He could have let me starve for a few days too. It would have taken at least three days for me to die of thirst. If I hadn't broken, he would have done it. I would be stuck there right now, not knowing that Slade had disappeared along with all the other adults on the planet. I wouldn't know that my teammates were fighting to bring them all back, and they wouldn't know that my life depended on them.

Keeping my face as blank as I can, I tell her, "You were right. He's using me and I can't stop him. Anything I do will only make it worse."

"Listen to me, Robin. You have to get help."

I shake my head. "I can't. We have a deal, and if I tell anyone, he doesn't have to hold up his end anymore. He'll take me and nobody can stop him."

"What if someone else went to the League for you? He would never know. The League can come up with a plan without him ever knowing. They'll keep you safe."

"Are you offering?"

M'gann pales and my stomach churns with guilt.

"I…" She takes a deep breath and then nods firmly, "If that's what you need me to do, I will."

"But they'd need to know why I told you and no one else or they'll accuse you of reading people's minds without permission," I mutter, looking at the ground. At best, the entire League would lose trust in her. At worst, they'd push until they found out her secret and she'd be sent back to Mars and Slade would come for me anyway. M'gann nods shakily, chest moving up and down rapidly. I shake my head.

"No. It means everything to me that you're willing to risk your secrets for me but I can't let you do that. I know what Earth means to you. I know what we mean to you."

"Robin, this might be your only chance. There's no way he's watching right now and we'll delete all the footage of this when it's all over. If you want to have a chance at stopping him, you have to do something now."

"I know." I take a deep breath, mind racing. The answer is obvious and painful and beyond terrifying. If Slade ever finds out I did this, he'll… But he won't find out. Ever. If this is the only thing I can hide from him, I'll do whatever it takes.

"Wally. It has to be him. I'll leave a note in his wrist compartment. It shouldn't take him too long to find it, and you won't have anything to do with it."

I stand up, turning towards the hallway that leads deeper into the mountain.

"I'll call everyone in. We need to be ready as soon as Zatanna can do the spell." Miss Martian hovers into the air and floats over to the computer console.

"I'll be back in a minute."

'_Good luck, Robin.'_ She whispers through the mind link, flooding me with strength.

* * *

The Zeta-beam activates as I return to the briefing room. Superboy steps through, followed by Aqualad. They're both wet and muddy but they're okay. There's no sign of bleeding, at least. Artemis and Miss Martian are standing by the computer, whispering back and forth. Kid Flash waves me over to the computer and starts recapping the infrastructure damage he passed on the way back from Maine. I type notes into the computer for Batman to look over later, adding them onto the list of damaged sites the Team found earlier.

"Robin? I'm ready to try my father's locator spell." Zatanna says, approaching the computer. Aqualad nods at me. I open up the globe hologram. As it expands, Zatanna walks forwards slowly. She nods, takes a deep breath and raises her arms, pointing her wand towards the globe.

"Etacol retnecipe fo yrecros!" Zatanna cries. A red circle appears on the map.

"Coordinates locked. Roanoke Island," I announce, "You did it."

Zatanna beams and Aqualad starts to give assignments.

"It works!" A kid shouts.

We all whirl around. There's a ten-year-old standing in the middle of the cave. For a second, I think it's Tim. Aqualad stalks forwards dangerously.

"Who are you? How did you get in here?" He demands.

The kid- Billy Batson- turns to Miss Martian. "Quick, read my mind!"

The Team is so focused on her that none of them hear when I start to say, "He's Captain Marvel."

"He's Captain Marvel," Miss Martian gasps.

Kid Flash rolls his eyes," Yeah, and I'm "Speedy Gonzales." Look, just because he believes he's Cap-"

Billy grins mischievously, "Gee, Wally. Do I really have to bring you nachos and pineapple juice to get on your good side?"

"He's telling the truth," I say. The Team whirls around to look at me.

"You knew?!" Billy exclaims in shock.

By way of explanation, I shrug. "Batman."

"No fair," Billy whines. Then he shakes his head, remembering why he was here.

"There are two dimensions, one for adults and one for kids! Batman and Zatara are in the cave, waiting for me to go back."

The Team lets out a collective sigh of relief, hearing that all the adults are okay. The atmosphere is still heavy, though. Billy's eyebrows lower.

"What…what's wrong?"

"There have been a great many children that we could not save," Aqualad tells him. "We have done our best, but many are still unaccounted."

Billy's eyes fill with sadness, but he nods his head in determination. "Then there's no time to waste. SHAZAM!"

Blue lightning appears out of nowhere and strikes him. He disappears.

* * *

If I'm being honest with myself, I don't want this to end. I'm not ready to go back. Klarion, the evil lord of chaos, can sense it. He knows with the first projectile throw that I'm not all in to this fight. He knows I'm an easy target. He blasts us with red lighting, knocking me and Artemis into the air. I land on the ground heavily, my head smashing against the dirt. Artemis helps me up and I can barely stand on my own. My stomach growls and my head is throbbing. Superboy is wrestling with the Klarion's monster cat, and he's losing badly. The rest of the team tries to fight back.

I'm exhausted and I can't follow who's doing what, but I can tell that we are hopelessly outmatched. The crystal in the center glows with power and then electricity is arcing out of it and slamming into me. This time, I don't get back up.

* * *

There's a blast of searing light that forces me back to consciousness. Artemis lets out a gasp and wakes up too. I reach out and we pull each other back up to our feet. Batman is back. So are Zatara and Red Tornado and Captain Marvel. The pentagram has four more wizards in it, but they're all slumped to the ground. Klarion is bound in Doctor Fates' glowing ankh, but with a snap of his fingers it disappears. He makes his escape unhindered, mocking us.

Kid Flash yells, "Aren't you going after him?"

"To what end? Klarion is chaos personified. He cannot be contained." Doctor Fate responds. I let out a groan at the pain coursing through my body from the lightning.

"Did we win?" I ask groggily.

"At a cost," Aqualad responds. We all turn to see Doctor Fate hovering in the sky, her black hair streaming behind her.

No! Zatanna!

Zatara steps forward. We watch in horror as he bargains with fate for his daughter's life. Then he sacrifices himself for her.

"Remember… I love you," he says.

Then he's gone. I grab Zatanna as she collapses, guiding her slowly to the ground. Artemis and Kid Flash appear at her sides.

It's over. In more ways than one.

* * *

"I'm glad you're safe," Batman says back at Mount Justice after we've all returned.

He asked me to come with him on the Batwing, but I refused. Batman and Red Tornado flew back to the cave alone, while we loaded Zatanna into the bioship. Captain Marvel turned back into Billy, and refused to leave her side. It was a short flight from Roanoke Island to Mount Justice, which is good because nobody was brave enough to break the silence.

I remembered the pain I felt when I was eight, watching my parents fall to their deaths and realizing they were never coming back. I remember how it felt to be totally alone and scared. I didn't think I'd ever be able to be happy after that. But it was a long time ago and I'm not alone anymore. I get to see Bruce and Alfred again.

But that's not what makes me a monster. What makes me a monster is the fact if it had just been up to me, I don't know that I would have brought the adults back.

We arrive safely back at the cave and the ship opens into the hangar. The entire Justice League is waiting for us, including Red Arrow. Black Canary is the first to come forwards. She holds her arms out to Zatanna, who throws herself into the embrace and starts sobbing. Canary leads her slowly down the hallway towards the living room to calm her down. Then it turns into a bit of a free for all.

Batman won't hug me in front of the team, but he says, "I'm proud of you," and that's almost better except for the horrible guilt and sorrow that still won't go away.

M'gann shoots into her uncle's arms, the Flash zooms forwards and grabs Wally in a supersonic hug, Artemis is detangling her bowstring from Green Arrow's quiver, which must have gotten stuck when he gave her a hug and then a noogie. Aquaman shakes Aqualad's hand firmly and they talk quietly, extreme relief on both their faces. Then Roy grabs Kaldur's shoulder and spins him around roughly and then they're… making out?!

When did that happen?!

The League goes silent for a second. Then Aquman steps forwards with a grin, holds out his hand and tells Green Arrow, "You owe me twenty dollars."

Green Arrow grumbles but gives him the money.

Wonder Woman decides that she's waited long enough. She puts a hand on Batman's shoulder to nudge(shove) him out of the way, then grabs me in an enormous hug.

"Thank Hera you're safe."

"You too."

I almost expect a hug from Superman too, but he's not behind Aunt Diana. I turn around to look and the sight is enough to break through everything and make me smile.

"Batman!" I hiss, "Look!"

Superman is smiling nervously, his hand partially outstretched. And he's talking to Superboy. Conner looks dumbfounded, but then he's has the happiest smile I've ever seen. He shakes Superman's hand and looks like he won the lottery. After a few minutes, Batman clears his throat. The crowd of heroes slowly quiets down.

"We will debrief tomorrow. For now, go home. Spend some time with your families." He pauses, "We are all very proud of your performance."

He turns to me.

"Let's go home."

The second we get into the Batcave, Bruce pulls the cowl down and grabs me in his arms. I press my cheek against his chest and close my eyes. It's over. Bruce is here.

"I was so scared," he says quietly. The absurdity of Batman being scared of anything makes me jerk out of his grip to look at his face. The lines around his mouth are pulled tight and his face is pale.

"You were?"

"One second, the whole Team was standing there and the next, they all vanished. I thought the League specifically was being targeted and that you, at least, were safe." He shakes his head, "Then Alfred called in a panic, Jason, Tim, Stephanie, Cass, they all just disappeared and he couldn't reach your phone." He sighs heavily, "I've… thought about what it would be like to lose you. I never imagined how horrible it actually was. I was afraid, Dick. I was so afraid that I would never see any of you again."

Tears start to well up in my eyes.

"Bruce…"

"I am so proud of you, Dick. I could not have asked for a more incredible son. I know I'm not always the best father, but I need you to know that I love you. I would do anything to keep you safe."

He hugs me again and I almost break down sobbing. I want to tell him the truth, ask him for help, let him keep me safe while he and the Justice League take Slade down for good.

But the Batcave is bugged. Slade is watching. They can't stop him. I can't tell Bruce.

"We should go upstairs. I'm sure Alfred is desperate to see you."

* * *

Mount Justice

Sunday, November 7th, 2012

* * *

I follow M'gann and Artemis down the hallway, all of us carrying boxes of Zatanna's stuff. We pass the souvenir room where Wally is standing in uniform, a sippy cup in his hands. I'll have to ask him about that later. We make our way to Zatanna's new room and unload the boxes.

"My room is right next door, if you need anything," M'gann says comfortingly.

"Thanks, I, uh, could use a little alone time, okay?" Zatanna responds slowly.

"Of course," Artemis answers. She and M'gann leave. I follow slowly, but I stop in the doorway. I know how you feel, I want to say. I lost both my parents. I was alone. I'm here for you.

But the words don't come.

The door slides shut behind me. Soft sobs emanate through the closed door. The three of us look at each other sadly, then make our way past M'gann's room to the kitchen. Suddenly, there's a loud crash, then another, then the sound of something heavy hitting the floor from the souvenir room. Together, we turn around and sprint to it. It's a disaster. One of the shelves is hanging off the nail, and all the other shelves got knocked out of place, sending their contents to the ground. Wally is on the floor in the middle of the pile, his arm grasping at the remaining shelf.

"Wally!" M'gann exclaims, "Are you okay?!"

The food container on his arm is open. There's a piece of paper in his hand, crushed in a death grip. He turns towards us, his green eyes going straight to me. They're filled with horror and disbelief and desperation, searching for answers or confirmation or proof or some sign that's it not some terrible prank.

I turn away.

"I'll go get Aqualad."

As I walk down the hallway, my heart is pounding with adrenaline and fear and hope. Wally knows. My life is in his hands now. I just have to trust him.

It's up to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got a little intense, so let's slow it down a little for the next one. The next chapter will be a bit of a break from all the stuff going on with Dick and a glimpse into the mind of the other characters.


	22. Chapter 22

Wally West

Mount Justice

Saturday, November 6th, 2012

* * *

The second Uncle Barry let him out of the hug, Wally was sprinting for his civvies. He changed so fast he thought the cast on his arm might catch fire from the friction, but he didn't care. His parents were back, and he needed to see them. Seeing the entire world separated and thrown into chaos, worrying that they'd never be able to fix it, watching Zatanna lose her dad to Doctor Fate, it was all too much for him.

How could Nabu have done that?! How close had Wally himself come to being the one trapped inside Fate's helmet, being the puppet of an illogical, impossible power inside his own body.

Wally shuddered and pulled his jacket over his shirt. He sped back to the main cave just as the zeta beam sent Artemis and Ollie to Star City. Red Tornado nodded at him and Wally sped onto the platform, waiting for the transport. The world turned a blinding white as the computer announced, "Recognized. Kid Flash, Speed 03."

Wally didn't waste a second when the zeta beam dropped him off inside the abandoned phone booth. He sped across Central City and zoomed to his front door, not caring if any of the neighbors saw.

"Mom?! Dad?!" He shouted, closing the front door behind him with a snap. His parents staggered out of the kitchen, holding onto each other for support. Relief flooded his body at the sight of them and a smile stretched across his face. He and his mom ran towards each other, enveloping each other in a hug that his dad joined a second later. They didn't say anything, just held on to each other. His mom's face was stretch taut with worry and the bags under his dad's eyes were darker than Wally had ever seen them. Neither of them looked like they had slept at all. He probably didn't look any better.

* * *

Wally sat on his bed, scrolling through the news feed on his laptop. The muffled sound of the doorbell came through his closed door.

"I've got it!" Wally yelled, zooming to answer the door. The front door swung open, revealing his two oldest friends. Who apparently were dating each other and had never told him.

"Didn't think I'd be seeing you two lovebirds tonight," he grinned, clicking his tongue. Kaldur lowered his eyebrows, but Roy's fist shot out, punching him in the shoulder.

"Ow! Watch the arm!" He whined.

"Your cast is on the other arm," Roy retorted, "Don't be a baby."

"Hurtful, Roy," Wally pouted, rubbing his arm, "Other than assaulting me in my own home, do you guys have a reason for showing up?"

"There has been a new development" Kaldur said.

"Did the League catch Klarion?!"

"No. But it is good news."

Roy rolled his eyes.

"He's dying to tell you," he said, "Don't fall for the stoic hero bit."

Kaldur grinned wickedly, "You did not seem to have a problem with the way I expressed myself when we—"

"Ew! Ew! Oh god EW! Don't finish that sentence!" Wally shouted, covering his ears. Wally's mom walked out of the kitchen, covering the phone with one hand.

"Wally, who is it?" She whispered, then uncovered the receiver and said loudly, "Yes, Mom, I'm still on the line."

Her face lit up when she saw Kaldur and Roy standing in the entryway.

"Mom, I'm sorry, I'm going to have to call you back. Love you, ok, yeah, yes you too, ahuh, yes, Mom I really have to call you back later if you're still worried tomorrow we'll call the dermatologist, ok, yes I'll give Wally your love and I'll have him call you later, love you too, bye."

Wally grinned. He loved his grandma, but Eloise Prewett could talk for hours and she didn't spare any of the gritty details. Especially about her skin conditions. Wally's mom let out a huge sigh and set the phone down before smiling at Roy and Kaldur. She stepped forwards and gave them both enormous hugs.

"Thank goodness you boys are alright!"

"I'm glad to see that you are well, Mrs. West."

"Kaldur, call me, Mary. I feel like my mother-in-law when you say that."

Roy blushed when she hugged him, looking a little uncomfortable. He probably didn't get many hugs anymore. Aunt Dinah probably tried, but Roy had been in his "I'm too cool for hugs phase" for a while now.

"I technically never left," he pointed out, "I am eighteen."

"You'll always be a kid to me," she answered, "It's one of the perks of being a mom. Besides, I remember the first time Barry dragged you and Ollie over here for family dinner. You were so cute, oh and Iris spent the entire night trying to convince Ollie to bring Dinah around the next time. I've never seen that man look more embarrassed in his life."

"He doesn't do embarrassed. He prefers to be embarrassing."

"You just wait until you're a parent, Roy Harper. Every single thing you do will drive that child crazy. I can't even go out for karaoke night without giving Wally fits."

"Moooom," Wally whined, but he was grinning. Kaldur chuckled.

"Would you boys like to stay for dinner? It'll be ready in a few minutes."

"That would be great, Mrs. West."

"Kaldur, we have this conversation every time you come over."

"I'm aware, Mrs. West." Kaldur answered like the troll he secretly was.

"What am I going to do with you?" Wally's mom laughed. "Dinner will be ready in twenty. And don't track mud upstairs. Rudy just vacuumed."

The three of them headed upstairs, and as soon as they were in his room, Roy pressed a com link into Wally's hands.

"Call Dick. He's going to want to be on the line for this."

* * *

"They're giving us what?!" Wally almost fell out of his bed.

"President Obama is awarding the three of us the Presidential Medal of Freedom," Kaldur repeated stoically, but his twitching lips betrayed his excitement.

"Dude, I'm thirteen! I'm going to be the youngest recipient ever!" Dick crowed over the com link.

"When?!" Wally demanded.

"The ceremony is at eight am tomorrow at the White House."

"But that's not the best part," Roy pressed.

"How is that not the best part?!" Dick exclaimed.

"They didn't invite Superman, Wonder Woman, Flash, Aquaman or Batman."

"Just the three of us?!"

"Just the sidekicks," Roy affirmed.

"No!" Dick said.

"Yes."

"No!" Wally repeated.

"Bet you wish you were a sidekick now, Roy!" Dick laughed.

Roy snorted in response.

"The majority of the founders have already been awarded this honor. I'm sure the President would have awarded it to the League again if he could," Kaldur reasoned.

"Come on, Kal!" Dick whined.

"Yeah! Don't pretend you're not excited!" Wally added.

Kaldur rolled his eyes and grinned widely.

"I admit, I never expected this when we started the team. I believed we would fight side by side along with the League."

"We've saved the world three times now, without our mentors." Dick added.

"We're heroes in our own right."

* * *

Mount Justice

Sunday, November 7th, 2012

* * *

When the zeta beam faded, Wally stared at the cave like he was seeing it for the first time. Next to him, Kaldur and Dick looked equally shell-shocked. He'd just shaken the President's hand. They were on national television, being celebrated as heroes.

Yesterday, it had felt like the world was ending. Wally never thought that he would ever be able to say it, but the Failsafe training had actually made all the difference for him. Yes, all the adults in the world had disappeared, but there were no alien mother-ships with death canons descending from the heavens. His friends were all alive and safe. They'd had a plan. Knowing that it could have been so, so, so, so infinitely worse made it easy for Wally to focus on what he had to do. And in the end, they saved the day.

"Where is everyone?" Kaldur asked, staring at the empty cave.

Dick paled.

"Zatanna's moving in today."

The words hit like a punch in the gut. While the three of them were being recognized on national television, Zatanna was mourning her dad. Wally's good mood evaporated and his stomach tightened. Kaldur nodded solemnly, shifting the case with the medal inside.

"I must take this to the Hall of Justice. I will be back soon to help."

He disappeared into the Zeta without another word. Dick pulled up his holocomputer, looking at the security feed of the mountain.

"The bioship just arrived. They probably brought all of her stuff."

They made it to the hangar bay just as the walkway opened and their teammates emerged, all piled with cardboard boxes. Wordlessly, the two of them grabbed boxes and helped unload the ship. They worked silently, as a team, to bring all of Zatanna's boxes to her new room. Wally wasn't brave enough to look at her.

It wasn't fair. None of it was fair. And he was a horrible person, because every time he thought about her father, being held captive inside an ancient magical artifact and possessed by a lord of order, the only thing he could think was "thank god it wasn't me."

Finally, the bioship was almost empty. M'gann, Artemis and Dick grabbed the last boxes and started to make their way to Zatanna's room. Conner met Wally's eyes sadly, but there was some happiness behind it. Remembering that Superman had finally acknowledged him yesterday, Wally suspected he knew the reason behind it.

"Congrats on the award," Conner offered.

Wally smiled back. "Thanks, Con."

Conner threw something at him. Wally caught it and looked down at the sippy cup one of the toddlers from Central City had given him.

"You left this on the bioship. Souvenir?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

Wally made his way to his souvenir room, mind flooded with memories of stranded, scared children. They couldn't save everyone. That knowledge sat heavily in his chest. But they did what they could, and Wally knew that even though the price was high, the League and the Team still wouldn't have done anything differently.

The world was safe for another day.

Wally placed the sippy cup gently on the open shelf and looked over his other souvenirs. When he'd started collecting things from missions, he never realized how many memories or how much weight they'd have. It was a little humbling. Not that he'd ever call himself humble. Wally's stomach growled suddenly. Luckily, he was in uniform. There should've still been a high-calorie protein bar in his wrist cupboard. He flipped it open and a folded scrap of paper fell out along with the bar.

"Huh." How'd that get in there?

He bent over and picked it up, unfolding it with one hand. The writing was quickly scrawled and a little messy. Definitely Robin's handwriting. Figures. The ninja wanna-be (who actually was a ninja but that's not the point) loved pick-pocketing and reverse pick-pocketing him, just to prove that he could. Wally rolled his eyes before reading the note.

_I'm being blackmailed by a mercenary named Slade Wilson a.k.a. Deathstroke the Terminator. He is _ _always_ _ watching me. If I don't do what he says he'll kill my family. Do NOT tell Batman. Help me. You're the only one I can trust. -RJG_

Out of pure shock, Wally's knees collapsed and he fell head-first into the shelves. They crumbled under his weight and he, the shelves, and all his souvenirs crashed against the ground. Wally's fist tightened around the paper reflexively. His eyes were wide. His mouth hung open limply. It had to be a prank. Dick was his best friend. He'd been Robin for years. He was the first sidekick—the goddamn Batman's protégée. And son! It couldn't be true.

This had to be a sick joke or a prank.

But Dick would never lie about his family being in danger. He'd do anything for them. He'd never joke about hurting them. Dick would never in a million years lie about Cassie being in danger. But Robin couldn't be the mole. Robin couldn't be working for some evil mercenary. It just wasn't possible. Let alone the fact that Robin would never hurt anyone, Robin was always either on patrol with Batman or with the Team. And any time he wasn't, he was doing homework. There just wasn't time for him to secretly be…

But…

"Wally!" M'gann gasped, "Are you okay?"

Wally's eyes snapped to the doorway, locking onto his best friend. Robin had seen the open container on his wrist and the piece of paper in Wally's hand. Wally stared at him, looking for any confirmation or sign that his best friend in the universe was being blackmailed or tortured or was secretly working for an evil mercenary. But Robin still looked like Robin. He still looked like the hero who'd fought beside him, who'd stood at his side at the White House and accepted the highest honor that could be given to an American less than an hour ago.

Robin turned away.

"I'll go get Aqualad," He muttered. Then he was gone.

Wally stared at the empty doorway, his thoughts spinning out of control. It wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible. He almost called out after Dick, begging him to stop, to explain himself, to burst out laughing and shout "Got you!" but the words were burned into his mind.

He's always watching. He'll kill my family.

Help me.

What was he supposed to do?!

M'gann was still standing in the doorway, watching him silently. Their eyes locked and for a second, Wally swore he could hear a whisper in the back of his mind, stoking the desperation and worry, and when he looked away, he knew one thing with absolute certainty. Dick was really in danger and somehow Wally was the only one who could help him. His heart sped up, pounding so fast that one beat became indistinguishable from the next. This was bad. This was beyond bad. Wally felt himself panicking. So, did what he always did when he was panicking.

He ran.

And ran.

And ran some more.

He tried to come up with a plan but his mind spun. Every thought he had was met with a spike of fear before slipping away and eventually he gave up on thinking. His feet never stopped moving.

"Kid, come in!"

Wally didn't stop moving as he answered the com call.

"It's not a good time, Flash."

"Where are you?"

"Just on a run. I'm fine."

"Where are you?"

"I'm running!"

"Your mom keeps calling me, she's getting worried."

"Tell her I'm fine!"

"You don't sound fine. Kid, please. We've had enough scares for one week."

Guilt settled in Wally's stomach like lead. He tapped his chest to activate the suit's homing signal.

"See? Just running. Now can you leave me alone? Please?!"

No answer. Wally hoped that was a good sign and kept running. When he ran this fast, it was easy to forget there was anything in the world except for what was right in front of you. Or did he just never notice anything anymore? What was he supposed to do?! If Deathstroke was always watching Dick, how could Wally do anything to help him?! What if he accidentally revealed that he knew?

Would Deathstroke really go for his family? Wally couldn't imagine someone being able to get to Batman's kids, but Robin would never lie about that. The thought of anything happening to them made Wally sick.

Who the hell was Deathstroke anyway? What kind of person could successfully blackmail Robin, Batman's partner (and son!)? What kind of person did you have to be to threaten innocent kids? How dangerous was Deathstroke if Robin wouldn't even risk telling Batman?

Seriously, Batman! The World's Greatest Detective and Tactician and Fighter and Justice League Founder! What was Wally supposed to do if not even Batman could help?!

"Kid!"

Wally jumped, glaring at the Flash furiously to hide the fact that he'd scared the crap out of him. He wondered how it was possible for the Flash to have caught up when he had such a ridiculous head-start, then he realized how low the sun had gotten. The com call had been almost an hour ago and Wally barely noticed any of the time that had gone flying past.

"I told you, I want to be alone."

"I'll go in a minute. I just wanted to check in. Face to face, you know I've never been much of a tech guy."

"Well, mission accomplished. See you tomorrow."

"Kid, wait." The Flash put a hand on his elbow and dragged them both to a grinding halt. Wally's legs shook and he realized he'd been running for almost three hours. His stomach protested suddenly but he felt too nauseous to eat. He never had eaten that protein bar in the trophy room, had he?

"Uncle Barry, I'm fine."

It sounded like a lie, even to him.

"You don't run from Mount Justice to Lake Tahoe by yourself because you're fine."

Wally crossed his arms over his chest and bit down on his lips, trying to stop the panic from escaping him. Uncle Barry knew him better than anyone. He couldn't keep secrets from him!

"Wally, you don't have to be fine, and you don't have to talk to me if you don't want to. I just want to know if it's just life and… you know, the mission in general, or if something happened."

The words hit too hard and the next thing Wally knew, he was sitting on the ground, his back leaning against a tree while hot tears spilled down his face. Uncle Barry was next to him in a flash, crouching in the dirt with a gentle hand on Wally's shoulder.

"Wally, I'm here if you need to talk. That's my job, to be here for you if you need me. As your mentor and as your uncle."

"Stop!" Wally bit out, hands digging into his hairline. "Uncle Barry please!"

"Stop what?"

"Stop asking what's wrong!"

Uncle Barry drew back his hand and gave him a self-deprecating smile.

"Do you really want me to leave?"

YES‼‼! YES LEAVE THE WORLD IS FALLING APART AND SOMEHOW I'M THE ONE WHO HAS TO FIX IT‼! Wally almost shouted, but he couldn't bring himself to. Because now that Uncle Barry was actually here, the last thing in the universe that Wally wanted was to be alone.

"No." He muttered.

"Okay, then how about we just sit? Is that alright?"

Wally nodded, sliding over so there was room for him to sit against the tree. The silence stretched between them until Uncle Barry leaned over and said, "You know… if you're feeling so overwhelmed, we can figure something out. You're dealing with a lot right now and I'm sure we can find a way to make it more manageable."

"No, it's not that." Wally answered, rubbing tears away with the back of his glove.

"Something happened to one of your friends?"

Wally froze, heart pounding again.

"How did you—"

"It was just a guess. You took it pretty hard when I asked before."

It was always jarring to remember Uncle Barry had a degree in psychology even though he worked in forensics. Even if Wally was careful, he might still figure out everything.

"I can't tell you!" Wally snapped. "Stop asking!"

"Ok. Can you at least tell me why I can't ask?"

"Because he asked me not to tell anyone and that's the only thing I can do to help him!" Wally shouted.

"Is he in danger?"

"Yes!" Wally growled, before realizing that he needed to abort the conversation RIGHT NOW. "Please, stop asking me!"

"Wally, if your friend is in danger, we both know you're going to do everything you can to help him. Just remember, you don't have to do it alone."

Wally couldn't stop the frantic laugh that came out of him.

"Yes I do! He said I'm the only one who can help him and I don't have a single clue what I'm supposed to do! What if anything I do makes it worse?"

"Wally, what's going on?"

"I can't tell you!" Wally shouted.

"You don't have to tell me who it is, or anything about him, but I can guarantee that talking through it out loud is better than dealing with it alone."

"I can't! Uncle Barry, I can't tell you anything about what's happening. I promised!"

"So make something up."

"What?" Wally stared. Thunder roared in his ears as he looked at his mentor blankly. "What?"

"If you can't tell me the actual story, make something up that still gets the big parts across. Change as many details as you want, and maybe we can come up with something that will still help."

Wally thought about it for a minute.

"Do you promise not to read into it? If I tell you something close to what's happening, do you promise not to try and figure out who I'm talking about or anything else about them?"

"If it's about sexual assault or domestic abuse, I reserve the right to talk about it more later, but otherwise? Yes. I promise."

"I need a minute to think."

"Take your time."

Wally thought for a long time, trying as hard as he could to come up with something that would make Uncle Barry understand how bad it really was. How much trouble Robin was in… how much trouble the entire League was in if Wally couldn't fix it.

"This isn't what's really happening but just… go with it, okay? Pretend it makes sense and if it doesn't work I'll come up with something else."

"Alright."

"My friend got a job as a delivery guy at this pizza place, he makes minimum wage part time. A little while ago, his boss said he'd give him two hundred bucks in cash if delivered a package to some apartment. He thought it would be a one-time thing, but things got out of hand and now he's running drugs all the time. He wanted out and tried to quit and basically… his boss is blackmailing him. Somehow he'd gotten video of my friend dealing and said that if he tried to quit, he'd send it to the cops. And that if he went to the police or told anyone what was happening," Wally choked out, "He'd go after my friend's family."

There was silence for a little while. Then hesitantly, Barry spoke.

"It might not be feasible but if it is, he should try to get evidence together and bring it to the police." Barry said. "They can get a warrant and make an arrest in less than a day, less if they have probable cause. Even if your friend's boss is serious about his threats, he'll have bigger issues than going after one of his runners."

"He can't." Wally said. "There's no evidence. His boss is really, really, REALLY careful. And my friend was too. If he hadn't told me, I never, ever would've known he was involved with anything like this."

"Sometimes you don't know people as well as you thought you did." His uncle said sadly. Wally fought back the surge of rage. Robin was his best friend. He trusted him with his life and he'd never let him down. They even died together during that fucking simulation. If Uncle Barry knew what was really going on…

"No! He's a good person! He only got the job so he could help his... mom out. She works three part time jobs and he's got fo—three younger siblings that he helps take care of. That's why his boss made him start running in the first place; he knew my friend would do anything to help his family."

"Can his family move?"

"No." Batman and Robin move out of Gotham City?! Wally thought hard to try and explain why it was impossible. "They can't… afford to move and his mom is really tied to the city. Besides, it wouldn't make a difference. His boss has friends and contacts and from what I know, he's a dangerous guy to piss off."

"What if he just stops showing up?"

"His boss will get him arrested! Remember the whole blackmailing thing, I think I mentioned it?!"

"He was dealing drugs. Hard drugs. Whether or not it was for a noble reason, it's still very illegal. The answer may be that he needs to face the consequences of his actions. If your friend is a minor, he'll likely get off fairly easy, maybe only get a few months to a year in juvenile detention. By the time he gets out, his boss will have been arrested or worst case, have found a replacement runner and your friend can walk away. There's also a chance his boss is bluffing."

"No! He's not! And my friend really can't walk away! It's not a great metaphor, okay? If he tries to, his boss will hurt his family!"

Uncle Barry was quiet for a long time.

"If he gets the police involved for drugs, his family is in danger. If he tries to walk away, his family is still in danger. Is that right?"

"Yeah. And he wants to stop. He wants help to get out!"

"What's his boss's involvement?"

"What?"

"You said his boss was careful, but how deep is he involved in the drug ring?"

"It's his operation. He's the most dangerous one."

Uncle Barry nodded.

"He's probably making a lot of money. Even if he's careful, he's not going to just sit on it."

"How does that help?"

"If your friend's boss is investigated by the IRS after a routine audit, and it turns into an open investigation, he'll have an excuse to quit. His boss will only be under investigation for fraudulent income, which is a significantly smaller charge than operating a drug ring. He can't throw your friend under the bus without revealing that he had some level of involvement in the operation as well. Worst case scenario, if the investigation turns up cold, your friend still has plenty of time and leeway to find another job and get himself out."

"What if his boss blames him for the investigation?"

"Businesses get audited. Besides, a kid can't set the IRS on a business. That's not how it works."

"You said that's the worst case. What do you think the best case is?"

"The boss goes to prison for felony tax evasion. Nothing to do with your friend, no mention of drugs. He can't go after your friend or his family without risking a narcotics charge added to his sentence. Your friend gets out from a bad situation in one piece."

"So… the answer is to go after the boss for something else?"

Uncle Barry nodded. Wally thought about it.

If some member of the Justice League just happened to be investigating Deathstroke for something completely unrelated to anything Robin, Batman or the Team had been involved with, he had plenty of crimes to be charged for. If they built enough evidence and went in with enough preparation, they could take Deathstroke down and bring him in all at once. He'd have no idea that Robin had told anyone anything. With Deathstroke securely in prison, Robin would be safe to reveal to Batman and the League that he was being blackmailed. Best case? That was it. In the worst possible case, if Deathstroke broke out of prison, the whole League would be ready to stop him.

"Uncle Barry, you're a genius!"

Wally hopped onto his feet, but before he could speed off, Uncle Barry grabbed his wrist.

"Wait."

"What?"

"Promise me that if things get out of hand, or if people are going to get hurt, you'll get help."

Wally stared at him. Robin was being blackmailed by an enemy of the Justice League and nobody knew. Things were already out of hand.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to my friend or his family." He answered instead.

"Be careful. Remember, I'm always here if you need me but… I trust you."

Wally nodded once, then pulled his goggles over his eyes and sped away. He had one more stop to make.

* * *

"Speedy!"

"How many times do I have to tell you?! It's Red Arrow!" Red Arrow spat, returning his bow to his back. Wally blinked at the furious tone and the tension in his friend's face.

"Are you okay? Where's Aqualad?"

"What's with all the questions?"

"Uh… dude. Seriously, you're freaking me out a little. Where's Kal?"

Red Arrow sighed, scrubbing a hand over his domino mask. As he did, his shoulders deflated.

"Aquaman called him to the South Pacific. There's an illegal dolphin hunting ring that they've been chasing."

He leaned his head against the building's guard rail and grunted something Wally couldn't understand.

"Hey Red… are you okay?"

"Imsm." He mumbled.

"What was that?"

"I. Miss. Him." Red Arrow growled. "It stresses me out when he's not around, okay?"

"No, no, I get it." Wally said, moving to lean over the guard rail next to him. "The solo stuff is really taking it out of you."

"I'm fine!"

"I didn't say you weren't. From what I've heard, the League thinks you're doing a great job." Wally shrugged. Red Arrow looked at him sharply, a hungry expression on his face.

"They said that?"

"Yeah. I mean, I think it sucks 'cause I still want you on the Team with us, but they'll probably invite you to the big kid's table any day now."

Red Arrow stared at him before breaking into a huge grin. The dramatic mood swing kind of terrified Wally.

"Uh… Roy? What's wrong with your face?"

Roy shook himself, the freaky unbridled joy fading away. "Sorry, I just really needed to hear that. So what's going on with you? Did you really drag yourself all the way out to Star just to give me a pep talk?"

"Actually, I'm following a lead."

"On what?"

"Okay, don't tell anyone."

Roy gave him a look. "Like we're usually in the business of putting our leads out on the internet for the world to see."

"Here's the deal. Flash and I made a bet." Wally lied. "He says that I can't get anywhere on a case without the League's help. And you know, resources. We're working the case separately, and if I can solve it before he can on my own, I win."

"What exactly do you win?" Roy sounded unimpressed. Wally winked.

"Speedster secret."

"And asking me for help somehow isn't cheating?"

"Nope! Technically, you're not affiliated with the League. It's a stretch, but I'm going to level with you, I picked a bad case for the bet. I need any help you can give me."

"Alright, sure. What do you have?"

"There was a murder in Central last week, a really, really, really low level rogue. Snart didn't give a shit about the whole thing, that's how low this guy was. It happened outside this bar, they had security of the guy right before it happened. He clearly knew who'd been hired to take him out, and you can see that he's saying "Deh." I pulled a list together of the mercenaries I know that have Deh in them. Can you just dig around, give me a rundown on what they've been doing recently?"

"That's your lead?"

"Are you going to help me or just make fun of my shitty detective skills?"

"Fine. Give me the list."

"Here."

"Deathstroke, Deadshot, Deadpool, Deadline?"

"I put them in reverse alphabetical order."

Roy snorted.

"Okay, first of all? Deadpool is a comic book character."

"...I knew that."

"And the others… give me a couple days."

"You're the best, Roy! And please, please please please please don't tell anyone! I don't want the Flash to call the bet off!"

"You're absurd."

"Promise?"

"Yeah, sure. Promise."

"You're the best! But seriously, call me as soon as you figure it out."

* * *

Bruce Wayne

Wayne Manor

Sunday, November 7th, 2012

* * *

"On behalf of the government of the United States of America, I present the Presidential Medal of Freedom to Aqualad of Atlantis, Kid Flash of Central City and Robin of Gotham City in recognition of their unprecedented efforts to ensure the safety of America's children in times of extraordinary stress. This medal is being awarded on behalf of every child who stepped forward to help in any way they could, from supplying emergency medical assistance to providing infant care, to acting as a community organizer and caring for those who could not care for themselves.

"I cannot applaud the children of America enough, nor can I commend them strongly enough for keeping calm and working together to protect each other.

"In these times, it is so easy to act as an individual. It is so easy to forget those around you and only think about yourself. It is a pattern we see every single day, and it can be frightening to know that this is the example that we set for our children. Today, I think we need to look at things a little differently and follow the example that our children have set for us.

"In the middle of a crisis, they stood together. They protected each other and they worked together. Instead of reacting out of fear or anger or hatred, they acted out of love. It is because our children stood together and found innovative solutions to an unfathomable crisis that we are reunited. Moving forwards, we cannot forget their example.

"This award is presented with not only gratitude but with tremendous respect as well. These young heroes are the representatives of a truly remarkable generation, and if we as a country can follow the example they have set, then the future is in very good hands. Thank you."

The army of photographers unleashed a storm of camera flashes, illuminating the three young heroes standing shoulder to shoulder on the stage. Aqualad stared ahead, the picture of stoic confidence. Kid Flash beamed, his body vibrating so fast he appeared blurry on the screen. Robin stood on Aqualad's other side, chin held high and standing proud. The President stepped forwards and shook each of their hands, starting with Kid Flash. When he got to Robin, he said, "Thank you for your service," and the crowd of half a million people erupted into cheers. Then he handed the open case containing the medal to Aqualad in the center and ten-thousand cameras went off again.

Watching his son and his teammates accept the award, Bruce had never been prouder. Cheers came from the kitchen, and he turned off the tv in his study. Following the sound, he found Jason sitting at the kitchen table, grinning wildly at the muted screen. When he stepped into the kitchen, Jason's eyes went wide and he quickly switched the channel to the news, pretending he hadn't been watching the ceremony. Bruce shook his head fondly, tousling his son's hair.

"It's okay to support your brother, you know."

Jason looked scandalized. "I have no idea what you mean."

"I'm proud of you too. You did an excellent job with your siblings and opening up the manor to those children was incredibly responsible and heroic."

Jason blushed, but when he turned back to the tv, he was grinning from ear to ear.

"I'm glad you're back," he said, still looking at the tv.

"I'm glad you're back too."

Jason unmuted the tv and the newscaster continued her story out loud.

"Thanks to the combined efforts of the Justice League and their partners Aqualad, Kid Flash and Robin, the two dimensions have been recombined," Iris West-Allen announced, "The suspects responsible have been taken into custody and will be brought to Belle Rev penitentiary to await their respective trials. In the meantime, President Obama awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom to the three junior heroes, along with a short speech commending the efforts of our nation's children to maintain safety and order throughout this ordeal. We here at Central City news would like to commend everyone who stepped up yesterday, especially Central City's own Kid Flash.

"In related news, billionaire CEO of Wayne Industries and adopted father of five, Bruce Wayne announced today that he would be providing compensation for businesses that had supplies taken from them during the crisis. This followed a twitter post from the sidekick Robin encouraging children to, 'take what they needed' in urgent situations. Wayne stated that he absolutely supports the actions taken during this crisis, and that he is just grateful to have his children back."

"Quite right, Master Bruce," Alfred said as he entered the kitchen, passing Bruce the newspaper along with a wriggling Cassie. She planted a big, watery kiss on his forehead, then snuggled down in his arms, pulling at the buttons of his suit jacket.

"Hey princess," he muttered softly, running his fingers down her silky black hair, "I missed you." A blonde blur slammed into him, throwing her arms around him too.

"What about me?" Stephanie demanded and Bruce scooped her up in his other arm. Bruce smiled down at her and pulled her closer for a hug.

"I missed you too, Stephanie."

"More than you missed Cassie?"

"I can miss more than one person at a time," he told her wisely, barely resisting the urge to grin. Barely.

"But you missed me the most, right?" She was very insistent about it. Stephanie loved being the center of attention, especially when it came to her siblings. Considering how well they all got along, Bruce didn't think her narcissism was much of an issue.

"I missed all of you the most."

"That's not a real answer."

"Tell twuth!" Cassie chimed, flopping backwards so that Bruce had to catch her with his left hand before her head hit the floor.

"I believe Master Bruce is telling you the truth," Alfred informed Cassie and Stephanie, "I for one missed you all terribly."

Stephanie latched on to him in a big hug. "I'm glad you're back. Dick left us alone the whole time. We had to eat cereal for dinner."

Bruce looked at Alfred in sudden alarm.

Was that true? Dick wouldn't have left them alone, he must have checked in to make sure they were ok. Alfred's face tightened and he looked away without responding. Bruce had no idea what that meant.

"You love cereal," Jason rolled his eyes at her, "I told you to have a banana."

"Bananas are gross and they're not even pretty."

"They don't have to be pretty. You're going to eat them," Jason answered, crossing his arms.

"Uh, duh. That's WHY they have to be pretty. I don't wanna put something gross looking in my mouth."

Tim raced into the room, panting lightly. "Is Dick back yet?!"

Bruce pulled himself out of his thoughts and shook his head. "The ceremony only just finished, Tim. I'm sure Dick wants to spend a little while with the Team too. It's a big day for all of them."

"I think it's great that they didn't even invite you." Jason grinned as he tore into a piece of toast.

"Are you jealous?" Stephanie asked innocently.

"No. They earned it."

"Would you be jealous if they invited Superman?" Jason pressed mischievously.

"No. Superman is the face of the Justice League."

"What about Green Arrow?" Tim joined.

"They didn't invite Green Arrow."

"But if they did?"

Bruce sighed.

"If they didn't invite Batman, Aquaman, the Flash, Superman or Wonder Woman, but they did invite Green Arrow, then yes, I would be jealous. Is that what you want to hear?"

Jason snickered, sliding his phone under the table while typing furiously. He looked up with an innocent and cheerful expression. Bruce sighed.

"You got that on video, didn't you?"

Jason nodded his grin widening.

"Who did you send it to?"

"Aunt Diana and Uncle Clark and Uncle Ollie. And Roy. I didn't want him to feel left out."

"How considerate of you. Remind me again why I bought you a cell phone?" Bruce muttered while Stephanie started singing, "Roy and Kaldur sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G."

His phone vibrated. He checked the message without disturbing Cassie, who was happily climbing up his arm.

'_How are the kids?'_

'_Safe.'_

'_Thank god. Are you ok?'_

'_Yes.'_

A brief pause.

'_We need to talk. Tonight.'_

'_Where?'_

"_The Opera House. 11.'_

'_I'll be there.'_

* * *

"Catwoman," Batman said as she appeared behind him.

"This is nice," she purred, gesturing at the roof around them. "Clear night, starry sky, tall, dark and brooding Caped Crusader. It reminds me of that night on top of Cartier's."

"When you stole Queen Victoria's emeralds. I don't remember that night nearly as fondly as you do."

"We had a nice moment. Besides, as far as the emeralds go, I put them back." She shrugged, turning around to look him in the eye coyly. "Eventually. I even gift wrapped them."

Batman's stare bore into her. Her smile widened.

"Fine, handsome, I admit it. I didn't gift wrap them. But I did put them back in one piece. Well, I mean, two pieces."

"And the rest of it?"

"From Cartier's?"

"No. All the rest of it."

Catwoman paused.

"I told you already. I brought it all back. Rightful owners, of course, and that is not easy to do in the art world."

"Why make the effort?"

"Why make the effort to return the art that I stole from basement collections and black market dealers to the families who it had been stolen from in the first place, sometime around the Nazi invasion and occupation of France?"

"I… admit that was a stupid question."

"No, it's okay. I know what you meant." She looked up, one perfect eyebrow raised and a mischievous glint in her emerald eyes. "You're just mad about the Fifth Avenue displays."

"You said you were done stealing."

"Oh for Bast's sake, I don't know why you were so upset. They were all fakes. Completely worthless!"

"Then why did you bother to take them?"

"They were nicely made. I can appreciate a good fake, especially with that publicity stunt about fooling the world's top diamond experts. Besides, I wanted to play with their micro-vibration laser grid."

"That's not why."

Catwoman's grin turned rueful.

"No. It's not. Batman, I'm serious about what I said. I really am done. But that itch… I have to scratch it somehow and taking the displays is good enough. I'm not taking anything anyone will miss."

"You just need to prove that you still can."

"Wouldn't you? If you hung up the cape tomorrow, you'd find a way to stay in the game somehow. Maybe you'd start throwing punches in "self-defense," maybe you'd start giving "anonymous tips" to the GCPD, even sign up as a civilian consultant. But you couldn't give it up entirely."

"No."

Catwoman snorted.

"You're agreeing with me. What does it say about the state of the world that that's not even the craziest thing to happen to me this week? And that's me personally, I'm not counting the world's children being briefly sent to an alternate dimension."

"What was it then?" Batman couldn't resist asking.

Catwoman turned, shrugging her shoulders casually in a way that did nothing to hide her nerves.

"I got a job offer. In person, from Danika Mathers herself, head curator of the Gotham Museum of Art. She wants me to be their official security consultant. Catwoman. Sent a messenger through the Underworld channels and everything."

"Security consultant?"

"Yeah. She got this idea about using a great thief to catch other thieves and somehow convinced the board it was a good idea. I wish I had a video, it was… a little bit adorable. She thought she had to convince me, play up the threat of low-level idiots who don't know what they're doing damaging the art. Even if I hadn't been in the business for a career change, it was very flattering and…"

"And?" Batman prompted, not quite letting himself dare to hope but the words had too much promise to resist.

"And I'm going to take it."

Batman inner monologue came screeching to a halt and he could only blink at her in shock.

"You are?"

She took a deep breath. Batman blinked at the realization that she was scared.

"I've been thinking a lot about what you said. About us."

The pang in his chest hit hard and he forced the feelings down, enough to get the next words out. Batman remained silent, keeping a tight lid on the hope stirring inside his chest. He couldn't get ahead of himself, couldn't ignore his responsibilities.

"Selina, it's… this isn't a good time. There's so much going on with the League and work and the kids and Dick's been going through a lot and I can't do this to them."

Selina grimaced, but didn't break eye contact.

"It's never a good time. That's how life works, especially our lives. Bruce, I feel ridiculous saying this out loud but you make me happy. Me, the crazy thief who runs around the rooftops in a leather catsuit," she cut herself off, shaking her head with a helpless look frozen on her face. She exhaled, letting her hands drop. "Bruce, Catwoman has been who I am for a really long time. I thought my life would be, well… this. I was happy with that. The planning, the prep, the highs, the chase. At this point, I don't really know where Catwoman stops and I start.

"If you'd asked me a year ago even, I never would have thought that I could. But I've been thinking. A lot. I want you to know that no matter what your answer is, it won't change my mind. I'm going to stop. Not that I've been doing much stealing these days anyway, but I'm giving up all of it. The mask and the whip too. Maybe not forever, but long enough to figure out who I am if I'm not just a thief in the night. And I'd like to figure it out with you."

"Selina…"

"This isn't a one-time offer, and it doesn't have to be zero to a hundred either. We can just take it slow, see… I swear to god, why are you making that face at me?"

"Because I want that too."

"You do?"

Bruce swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Yes. I really do. But—"

"There's always a but."

"But, it's not just up to me."

"The kids?"

"It has to be alright with them."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." Selina smiled gently.

"I don't know that they'll agree and I won't do anything without their permission. All of them." Bruce warned.

"Dick's never been my biggest fan." Selina agreed, forcing out a laugh through a tight smile.

"He's having a hard time right now. His whole team is, since the disaster simulation gone wrong."

"Bruce, I know it won't be easy, but I'm willing to fight for this. For you and all of them. If they give me a chance, I won't let them down."

"I know." Bruce's thumb tapped against his index finger. Almost no one on the planet except Selina would recognize it as his version of a nervous gesture. "Dinner."

"When?"

"Wednesday. At the Manor. I'll introduce you to everyone. Officially."

"I'd like that."

Batman grunted in agreement.

"So."

"So…" Selina purred, and when she caught his eye the grin was pure Catwoman. "I was thinking… how about one last teamup before I put the costume away?"

"It is early enough for a full patrol." Batman answered.

"Lead the way, handsome." Catwoman purred. Her fingers interlocked with his and she leaned in, lips resting against his face. "On second thought…"

She pressed a kiss on his cheek and took off for the nearest rooftop.

Batman was smiling as he followed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the first chapter that doesn't focus entirely on Dick, and here we really get to see how everything looks from an outside perspective. If you're at this point in the story and wondering how nobody has noticed Dick acting strange or pulling disappearing acts, the answer is; they have! They've just made the understandable assumption that it has to do with traumatic events they know about, rather than additional traumatic events happening under their noses.
> 
> And who knows? Maybe Batman assumes that Robin would tell him if there was a serious problem. Maybe he trusts that Robin wouldn't lie to him. Whoops!


	23. Chapter 23

Dick Grayson

Lexxon Mobil Plant

Thursday, November 11th, 2012

* * *

'_First two relays active.' _Artemis reports over the mind link, nearly an hour and a half after we touched down at the Lexxon Mobil plant outside of Pittsburgh. There's a lot of things that haven't been adding up since Lexcorp acquired the company, especially the fact that this is one of three plants that hasn't had a full inspection in years and everything related to the plant runs on an unbreachable internal network. Normally, it wouldn't be a League matter, but there sure are a lot of armed guards for a crude-product refinery and, oh yeah, it's Lexcorp. So here we are.

'_Mine too.' _Superboy says exactly forty-two seconds later. One at a time, the relays interface remotely with my holocomputer. A dark server room really isn't the best place to hide but I have to be here to physically connect to the intranet. It's stressing me out that I can't have the interface and security cameras up at the same time, but my team is on high alert. Miss Martian is camouflaged and she's standing outside the door to make sure nobody sneaks up on me.

'_My relays are in place.' _Aqualad reports. A green light on my screen confirms that they're online. Just one more.

'_That's the last one!' _Kid Flash cheers. As soon as the light turns green, my fingers are flying across my computer screen to start the data-dump.

'_Robin, status?'_

'_All the relays are online. As soon as the download finishes, we'll be able to monitor the whole system remotely.'_

'_Time to completion?'_

'_Five minutes.' _I make sure the download is going smoothly and switch back to the camera feed Artemis planted during the initial infiltration. I can see Aqualad on the factory floor, documenting labels and taking pictures of the crates. Everyone else is out of sight of our cameras, but I have a good view of the security teams making their rounds through the building.

'_Good. Miss Martian, stay with Robin. Superboy, Artemis, return to the bioship but alert us to any changes in guard activity. Kid Flash and I will cover your exit. Rendezvous at the bioship in ten minutes.'_

'_Copy.' _We all say together.

'_Uh, guys? I'm pinned.' _Kid Flash says.

'_Where are you?'_

'_I'm under the packaging line.'_

'_The what?'_

'_The big machine with the giant oil drums on it! There's two guys right next to me! If I move, I'll blow our cover.'_

'_Robin, can you finish the download?' Miss Martian asks._

'_Yeah, I've got it. You go help KF.'_

'_Hold tight, Wally, I'm on my way.'_

'_Be careful.' _Aqualad warns. I don't have any sightlines from the security feed and I hate not knowing what's happening. I can still see Aqualad, but that's it. No sign of KF or Miss Martian.

'_Superboy and I are at the bioship.' _Artemis reports. _'We're ready if you need extraction.'_

'_Hold your position. Robin, how much time is left?'_

'_Three minutes, Aqualad.'_

'_Wally, I'm going to knock a shelf over. Be ready to move.' _Miss Martian says.

'_Ready whenever you are, beautiful.'_

I can't hear it from the server room, but the camera closest to Aqualad catches the shelf on the far side of the factory spontaneously collapsing. The guards whirl around, then laugh at each other for jumping and walk over once they see what happened.

'_Now!'_

There's a blur of yellow as Kid Flash streaks out of his hiding place and sprints toward Aqualad and the exit.

'_Kid, look out!' _Aqualad shouts over the mind-link. On my holocomputer, I see Kid Flash just barely stop himself from crashing into the low pile of crates hidden along the factory floor. At the same time, I see a new wave of guards approaching.

'_Incoming!' _I pull a birdarang out to get ready as soon as everything goes sideways. If they sound the alarm, the chances are good that I'll have to fight my way out of here. But somehow, Aqualad pulls KF into an alcove for cover seconds before the trio of armed guards come around the corner. I hold my breath, but they just walk over to where the other guards are inspecting the ruined shelf. There's a lot of waving and gesturing, but it's quiet. Everything is quiet. There's no alarms, no blaring lights, nobody busting into the server room with guns blazing.

'_We're clear.' _Aqualad tells us. I can feel Artemis and Superboy's relief through the mind link. Or maybe it's mine. The next forty seconds are still the longest of my life.

'_Download complete!' _I pull the cable out of the computer and retract it back into my glove.

'_Copy that. Everyone, return to the ship.'_

I disappear into the nearest vent. After that close call, I don't need to be told twice.

* * *

"Data received. We have full access to the system. Return to the cave and… good work." Batman says.

"Thank you. We're returning to the cave now."

"Good. Canary will debrief you when you return. Batman out."

We sit in stunned silence for a few seconds. We did it. We were in and out without blowing our cover and now we're on our way home. We're safe here on the bioship.

And somehow, I'm even more anxious than I was when we were on the ground. I spent the entire mission waiting for something to go wrong, like when Wally almost ran into the crates in front of all the guards, and then we'd have to fight our way out. But no. The hammer never fell. I've been a hero since I was eight, and the one thing I've learned is that the hammer ALWAYS falls. Something always goes wrong.

"Thank god you saw those crates, Kaldur, or else Wally would have tripped on them and we would have been toast!" Artemis' sudden laugh shatters the silence.

"I think Kaldur deserves a round of applause," Conner adds. Everyone starts clapping, and the best I can manage is a small smile while I pull up the screen to start the mission report. Kaldur chuckles good-naturedly as the clapping dies down.

"Hey, I think I should get a round of applause too." Wally proclaims, leaning back in his chair. M'gann raises an eyebrow at him.

"For what?"

"There were eighteen vending machines in that place. And, despite the rampaging hunger in my stomach, I valiantly clung to my mission as I bravely and nobly passed up all opportunities for food."

The team grins back at him and Wally winks at me. Suddenly, I feel sick. We shouldn't be joking around right now. What if it was a trap? Why doesn't anyone else see that this is too good to be true? Something's going to go wrong, or maybe it already did and we don't even know it. We have to be ready!

"Yeah, I think he deserves a hand," Artemis admits, and then there's a second round of applause. I type even faster, trying to lose myself in the mission report. The plant gets farther away and my team celebrates in the background. Going over the mission details helps to slowly loosen the tightness in my chest. Maybe it's not a trap at all. Maybe we really did it; our first successful covert infiltration.

The trip passes quickly and it feels like the bioship only lands in the cave a few minutes later. Everyone is still laughing and congratulating themselves on a job well done as we grab our gear. As we walk down the hallway, Wally has one arm around my shoulder and the other around M'gann, happily regaling us with the near miss and the way the guards' armor reeked as they passed by his hiding spot. Artemis and Conner are comparing notes, each insisting that their role was more vital to the mission.

"I'm just saying, anyone could have staked out the perimeter, infrared scanner eyes or not."

Conner snorts, "I could have planted the cameras just as easily as you did. Actually, it'd be easier for me."

"Oh really?" Artemis raises an eyebrow.

"I can throw anything faster and harder than you can shoot through a bow." Conner says matter-of-factly. Artemis laughs and I can see the lewd joke on the tip of her tongue but before she can respond, Kaldur steps in.

"We must not fight amongst ourselves, especially over a matter as inconsequential as value to the team." Then he grins, "Because as team leader, my job is more important than both of yours."

"Burn!" Wally cheers, high-fiving the Atlantean.

M'gann laughs and Wally cheers Kaldur on the whole way. I can feel myself starting to smile for real.

We enter the kitchen together, caught off guard by the loud noisemakers and applause. I let out a startled laugh when I see the League's handiwork. Superman, Flash, Green Arrow, Black Canary and Wonder Woman are proudly wearing party hats, while Red Tornado holds a hat in his hand as if he isn't quite sure what to do with it. The entire kitchen is covered in streamers and confetti, with a giant banner stretched across the wall reading, "First Successful Covert Mission! (It's about time!)" Several tables have been pushed together and piled with bowls of candy, cheese puffs, pizza boxes, and a large chocolate cake.

"Sweet!" Wally exclaims, pumping his fists into the air. He's the first to grab a plate and starts loading it with as many slices of pizza and cheese puffs as he can fit. Kaldur and M'gann are right behind him, struggling to extract a slice of pizza while he zooms around the table. I cut in front of Conner, who shakes his head at me but steps back to give me more room.

"C'mon, Kid Mouth! Leave some food for the rest of us!" Artemis complains, and incredibly, Wally obliges.

"Sorry!" He garbles through a mouthful of food before running over to the couch. Somehow, he manages to keep the huge pile of food from falling off his plate while moving at super-speed. It's impressive. The rest of us follow suit, grabbing plates and loading up on pizza, cheese puffs, Oreos and cake.

"Nice work team," Black Canary smiles, reaching for a bottle of soda. "Zatanna also asked me to pass along her congratulations."

"By our calculations, this level of success was inevitable," Red Tornado adds, probably trying to be encouraging.

"I knew you had in you." Green Arrow grins cheesily, patting Artemis on the shoulder as she extracts a massive slice of cake. "You're doing your old uncle proud, kid."

Artemis rolls her eyes, amused by his insistence on the whole "niece" story but also glowing with pride.

"Thanks, GA."

"Alright, well you kids have fun. I've got some business back home to take care of." Green Arrow waves at us, kisses Black Canary on the cheek, and heads for the zeta beam. Superman watches him leave with a way too amused look on his face.

"Huh. Usually he's the last one to leave the party. Of course, there is usually alcohol," Superman observes with a grin. Wonder Woman swats him on the shoulder. "Ow! What was that for?"

Plate in hand, I make my way over to the couch. Without saying anything, M'gann and Kaldur slide over to make room for me and I plop down on the empty seat. I throw my feet up onto the coffee table and let out a real smile.

"I gotta say, this is pretty asterous."

"Robin, get your feet off the table." Superman scolds as he walks by and I move them without thinking. M'gann giggles when Wonder Woman smirks and puts her feet up where mine just were. She quickly removes them as Superman turns around, sitting up innocently with her slice of cake.

"Yes, Kal?" Wonder Woman meets my eyes and winks. I can't help but smile back.

"Are you all on duty this tonight?" M'gann asks as she pops a Milky Way bar into her mouth. I grin wider when I see the logo on the side of the packaging. Who knew Martians liked Mars-brand candy? There's a gentle press on my mind as she reaches out through the mind link.

'_What's funny? Was I not supposed to ask that?'_

'_Ask what?'_ Wally demands, suddenly alert and battle ready. Next to him, Artemis and Conner look up from where they're playing Operation with strangely cut pieces of cake.

'_Milky Ways are made by Mars Candy. Miss Martian is eating Mars bars,'_ I answer.

"Oh." KF says out loud, causing the adult superheroes to look at him. He shakes his head uncomfortably, "Sorry, I just… uh… thought of something funny?"

I stare at him while Artemis rolls her eyes and whacks him on the arm. What was that about?

"Real clever, aren't you?" She teases.

'_Oh yes. That was quite amusing.' _Kaldur deadpans. I glance at him over my left shoulder, but he hasn't missed a beat in his conversation with Superman about the League's plans for expansion.

'_Kiss up.'_ I tease.

'_Very mature, Robin.' _Kaldur answers.

'_Hey, I'm thirteen. I get to be immature.'_

'_Excuse you!' _M'gann frowns over the mind-link before grinning mischievously and telekinetically nudging Wonder Woman's cup off the table. The Amazon immediately reaches for it, but Superman exclaims, "I got it!" and lunges forwards, accidentally managing to knock into the cup with enough force to send it shooting across the room. It smashes against the wall in an explosion of red plastic and orange soda.

'_You can be immature at any age,' _M'gann sniffs like she's been grievously offended. I catch her eye and grin while Wonder Woman stands to clean up the mess and makes Superman get her a new cup of soda. I swear, they're basically married. Better not say that in front of Lois Lane.

Eventually, the table runs out of food and Conner and Artemis run out of ways to mutilate a cake so everyone migrates to the couches.

"So, are you two planning to take a turn as our Den Mothers?" Wally asks. Wonder Woman and Superman look confused.

"I thought we'd stopped rotating League members since you brought Tornado back."

"The assistance has proven itself to be welcome. I find it very informative to understand different parenting styles." Red Tornado answers. Wonder Woman thinks for a second with a big smile on her face.

"Well in that case, it does sound like a lot of fun. If you all have a week to dedicate to training, I can set up a traditional Amazonian gladiatorial challenge."

"I'm not sure what I could teach you that would be worth your while, but I'd be honored to spend some time working with you all." Superman says. He looks at Conner sheepishly. "That is, if you'd all find it helpful."

Conner smiles at him reassuringly. I guess that means things are going pretty well there. Good job, Uncle Clark!

"Now that their missions are going smoothly, the Team needs some new challenges." Canary laughs. "You two don't have a choice."

Wonder Woman laughs and throws her hands up.

"We've been outmaneuvered."

"You know, I don't even remember the first League mission that actually went according to plan." Superman says.

"That's because it's only happened about three times total."

"That's not how Batman tells it." I grin.

"What does he say?" Artemis asks.

"There's two ways every mission happens; either the plan fell apart as soon as it started because some Leaguers got ahead of themselves and didn't listen to him, or the original plan was stupid anyways and everything worked out exactly the way he said it should've in the first place."

Everyone laughs. Superman shakes his head and Wonder Woman rolls her eyes.

"He does like to be right but I'm really just waiting for the day that one of you two trips over your own cape." She says.

"I do sometimes." Superman admits. "I just start flying to catch myself and make it look like I didn't."

"And that's why I don't do monkey suits." Conner crosses his arms over his chest.

"Well, it's too late for me. If I changed my costume, the public would go crazy. I tried for a little while with a, uh… summer look? I got petitioned into changing it back."

"Really?" M'gann asks.

"If I'm not mistaken, didn't a certain reporter start that petition?" Kaldur asks slyly, knowing the full story. Superman sighs and Canary makes a cough to hide her giggle. Wonder Woman looks delighted.

"Kaldur, somehow I always forget just how devious you can be!"

"I'm not sure what you mean." Kaldur shakes his head in false innocence.

"Well, now you have to tell the whole story," Wally says, leaning forward.

"I'm sure nobody wants to hear it." Superman waves it off. I lean forward, grinning at him while dropping my voice to a whisper low enough that only he and Conner can hear.

"Well you could always tell them about that time with the fox in the barn roof."

Superman coughs into his soda, quickly putting down his cup and clapping his hands together.

"So, it all started with a conversation I'd had with Lois Lane, she's one of the reporters at the Daily Planet I've worked with quite a bit, and we were talking about my costume. I'm not sure how it happened, but she convinced me to take a bet that the, um, well, she called it "underwear-on-the-outside" was holding public opinion of me down. And I should've figured out it was a setup before this, but she'd found a new costume designer that already had a new version of the suit ready, and…" Superman blushes, face turning red, "Nobody ever believes me that I was in on the joke, but really, I was. You should've seen this thing it was…"

Wally and I snicker and Kaldur grins. Canary and Wonder Woman are holding it in, but they're doing a terrible job disguising their laughter as coughing. Superman finishes his story to thunderous laughter, and then Canary trades stories with Wonder Woman about costume malfunctions they had. Like the time Canary's heels melted during a fight with a lava demon and that was when she switched to combat boots.

"But you were wearing heels before?!" Artemis demands.

"It was a bad choice, I freely admit that now."

"Oh, you should've seen the fishnets." Wonder Woman exclaims. Canary turns on her.

"Like you've never worn something ridiculous into battle!"

"Hey Canary, remember that time you pulled Flash's cowl off by his lightning rods?" Wally exclaims, putting his fingers to the sides of his head. "That was amazing! He's still not over it!"

"We were sparring, and I won that fight fair and square."

"You guys should've seen his face!"

The conversation devolves pretty fast from there. Around eight, Dinah gets up to throw her plate away.

"I hate to say it, but Monitor duty calls. I'm really just so proud of you guys. We'll do an official debrief next week, alright?"

"That is perfect. Thank you, Canary." Kaldur answers for all of us. Dinah smiles and disappears to the zeta tubes. As she leaves, Wally clears his throat and starts telling the story of how he gave himself a bloody nose trying to vibrate through a wall. It's one of his best stories, mainly because the Flash freaked out over it and instead of just telling him what happened, Wally pretended that he'd gotten hurt fighting an escaped supervillain and got dragged around Central for three days looking for an invisible, undetectable escaped convict.

Midway through a vivid description of his particles colliding with the wall, my phone vibrates. I toss my plate onto the table and pull it out.

'_8:45 sharp. We have a job'._

My stomach drops through the floor and my blood turns to ice. For a second, it's like I'm still trapped in the Haunt.

_You are mine. Everything you have is something I have given you, and I can take it all away._

Slade's words ring through my ears. It's been a week since everything changed and all I've done is pretend that it's all the same. But it's not.

I can't go back. That's crazy! A few days ago, he locked me in a dark room and starved me until I did whatever I had to just to make it stop. He wants to control me. If I go, that's what he'll do! What kind of crazy person would even consider going? I should just delete the message and stay here with my team and Wally's ridiculous stories.

I can barely get through the thought before my stomach is twisting in terror and my heart is racing. Slade drugged me and dragged me back to the manor while I was unconscious. He broke into my room and nobody, not even Batman, knew he was ever there. He only let me out because I promised to do what he said.

If I break our deal, nowhere is safe for me.

Or my family.

Before anyone can see, I press the home button and the message disappears. I glance at the time and shudder when I see that it's almost eight. I turn off my phone and put it back into my utility belt. Fear pricks at my stomach and I can feel hairs rising along my arms. The first time I went on a job with Slade, I took a bad hit to the head and missed the part where he killed someone to keep the scientists safe. Who knows what might happen this time?

"Um…Robin?" M'gann's hand lands on my arm, the touch so soft I barely feel it. "Are you alright? I wasn't trying to pry, but you just started radiating worry."

Her eyes meet mine and there's real fear in them. I let out a frown and run a hand through my hair, trying to come up with a decent excuse to say in case anyone is listening. "It's a disaster, heavy on the dis. I just got a reminder that I have an English paper due tomorrow and I haven't even started it yet."

But mentally I tell her, _'He wants me for a job.'_

"That's the worst! Oh! Hello Megan!" She hits her palm against her forehead. "There's a bunch of computers in the library. You could go work on it there! Then you can stay and hang out with us when you finish."

'_Tell him you're with the League! Official business you can't get away from.'_

I shake my head. "Thanks, M'gann, but I have all my notes at home. I should go."

'_I have to go.'_

'_Dick, no. You can't!'_

'_I don't have a choice. You don't understand what he'll do to me if I don't.'_

M'gann nods at me, but her face is tight with discomfort.

'_Be safe. Please.'_

I swallow the lump in my throat instead of answering.

"You're leaving?" Conner asks, interrupting Wally in the middle of his story.

"Wow, Conner, it's not like I was in the middle of a…" he suddenly processes Conner's words and turns on me, eyes narrowed suspiciously, "Wait, you're leaving?!"

He saw the note. Even if he hasn't said anything yet, he knows. He knows about Slade and judging by how weird he's been acting today, he's been thinking about it a lot. Pretending innocence, I shrug unhappily.

"I just remembered that I have an essay due tomorrow. You know how strict Bats is about grades."

"Ugh, dude! You have the worst timing!" His eyebrow is raised way too far and I know he knows I'm lying. I hold my breath. As long as he doesn't make a big deal, no one else will suspect anything. As long as nobody notices M'gann looks like she's about to cry. Finally, he shrugs.

"Guess I'll have to finish your cake then."

I let out the breath I'm holding and some of the tension drops out of my shoulder. I was right to trust him. He won't let me down. Everyone waves their goodbyes and I head for the zeta room. It's probably just my imagination, but my footsteps echo off the cave walls even louder than usual. My heartbeat pounds in my ears louder than usual too, and every step feels like I'm walking to my doom. My hands are shaking by the time I make it to the zeta beam.

I don't want to do this, I really, really don't want to do this. What would Slade do if I bailed? Or if I sent him a text along the lines of "I don't care what you do to me, I'm done" and just disappeared? Which would he start with, kidnapping me or posting identity-revealing pictures all over the internet to ruin Bruce's and my life? I pause at the console to input the activation codes to send me to the Bactave, where I'll drop my stuff and make my excuses to Alfred. The thought of that twists my stomach. I hate lying to Alfred.

"GRRRRRRR!"

I jump, whirling around and dropping into a fighting stance.

"Jesus, Wolf!"

Wolf is right behind me, lowered down and haunches raised like he's about to pounce. Conner's pet is almost four hundred pounds of pure muscle, claws and teeth. And right now, he's looking at me like I'm dinner.

"Whoa, Wolf, easy." I put my hands up. Don't panic, don't panic. The first rule of dealing with big, dangerous animals is not to show fear. Wolf lets out an even louder growl and steps forward. I fight all of my instincts not to turn and run for it.

"Wolf, stop." I make the command as sharp and confident as I can. Wolf stops, but he's standing between me and the zeta tube and he's ready to pounce. My hands are still raised and I take a careful step forward. Wolf bares his teeth so I stop.

"Easy, easy, Wolf. What's wrong?"

Is there a threat? Something he noticed that the rest of us missed?

My phone chimes again and I glance down at it without thinking.

'_Happy Harbor is not Gotham.'_

Oh shit. I have to go NOW!

Wait a second.

How does he know where I am?

Wolf growls and lunges at me. I dive out of the way but as soon as I land, he's on top of me again. He snaps up my phone in his mouth and two massive paws push me to the ground. Hitting the floor knocks all the wind out of me and Wolf is sitting on top on me, using most of his body weight to pin me down. My phone is caught in his jaw, but his hind legs are sitting on my calves and one paw is on my back. He's keeping enough of his weight off me that it doesn't really hurt, but I'm stuck. And he has my phone.

With the texts from Slade still open.

Shit.

Shit!

SHIT!

"Wolf! Get off! OFF!"

Wolf snorts and whines softly. Even though he just scared the shit out of me and decided I'm his new favorite cushion, the aggression is gone. He seems almost... hurt.

"Give me back my phone!"

He whines again, bucking his head.

'_M'gann!' _I think as loudly as I can, hoping she can hear me from the kitchen. _'Help!'_

Nothing. Shit‼

I trying to push myself up, but he growls and scratches at my back. Twisting around as far as I can, my hand barely scrapes his arms and my phone is far out of reach.

"Wolf, get off!"

The weight on my legs is starting to hurt and I can't twist myself free. I can hear my phone buzz in Wolf's jaw and the screen lights up again. I can't read the text, but this is bad. This is really bad. I'm not going to be able to get Wolf off me without help, but if I call for help, my whole team plus several Leaguers are going to come running. They're going to see my phone, and they're going to be able to read all the messages Slade sent me tonight, and my cover is going to be blown. But if I don't get Wolf off me, I'll be late getting to the Haunt. Slade will be beyond furious and a furious Slade is something I never, ever want to deal with. I get an idea, a desperate one. Bruce is going to be pissed about me deliberately destroying my phone but if the League finds out about Slade… if Slade finds out that I accidentally let the secret out… this is an emergency.

"Wayne Tech override, RG8, ISD activate."

Nothing changes on my phone screen. I can't really tell. It's a bad angle and Wolf still has it clamped in his jaw.

"Wayne Tech override, RG8, ISD activate!"

The screen goes dark except for the Wayne Tech logo and a blue loading bar. After a few seconds, the screen turns off completely. Thank god. The internal self-destruct will permanently wipe all the data, turning the phone into a useless brick of polymers and glass and circuitry. I'll have to get a new phone, but I only lost the stuff that wasn't backed up, so only a few days' worth of texts. Worth it.

"Conner!" I shout. "Get your giant dog off me!"

Wolf growls but there's no heat behind it. I stick my tongue out at him because at this point, that's all I can do.

Thanks for the heart attack, you massive wall of fur.

"Conner! CON‼ Conner!"

"Robin? Are you…. Hey no! Wolf, OFF!" Conner grabs Wolf around the middle and hauls him off me. Wolf whines and scratches but the massive weight on my legs is gone.

"Are you alright Robin?" Uncle Clark is there, his hand outstretched to help me up. His eyes are wide with real worry and it's kind of freaking me out to see him in family mode while he's wearing his uniform. I let him pull me onto my feet before dusting myself off.

"Yeah, no I'm fine."

The rest of the team comes running after, standing around watching but with Superman standing between me and Wolf, they're not sure what to do.

"What happened?" Kaldur demands.

Everyone is looking at me, but I'm watching Wolf. Conner is holding him around the middle, making sure he can't attack anyone else. Wolf whines, scratching at the ground and nipping softly. He tries to pull away, whining and huffing in my direction but he doesn't look angry or threatening. He hasn't since he grabbed my phone, which is still clenched in his jaw.

"I think my phone scared him. It went off and Wolf jumped me." I lie. Everyone's eyes go to Wolf's mouth and they all seem to notice my destroyed phone at the same time. Artemis winces. Aunt Diana is the one to pry Wolf's jaws open to grab it. Wolf lets go easily but as soon as she has the phone, he starts barking. My stomach freezes but nobody's looking at me right now.

Aunt Diana hands it back to me apologetically.

"It appears to be very broken."

I wince. "Yeah."

"Dude, that sucks!" Wally grimaces.

"It's fine. It's just a phone, I can replace it." I shake my head, and my back aches when I move. "Ow. For the record, that was not fun."

Conner scowls at Wolf, but the expression changes to sincere apology when he looks at me. "I have no idea why he did that, Robin, I'm really sorry."

"Not your fault."

"Well, how do we know Wolf isn't just going to start jumping people all over the place?" Artemis demands, crossing her arms over her chest.

"She's got a point." Wally says. "That is one sandwich I want no part of."

Everyone looks at him and he stacks his hands in midair to demonstrate. "You know, floor, giant Wolf and speedster pancake right in the middle."

Wolf lets out a loud, mournful whine.

"You planning to explain yourself?" Conner asks, unimpressed. While Wolf starts to howl, M'gann locks eyes with me. She tilts her head to the side and blinks at me, three times in rapid succession.

Mind link established.

'_What happened?'_ M'gann whispers in my mind.

'_I think Wolf knows. He tried to stop me from leaving.'_

'_So your phone…'_

'_Had texts. Very incriminating ones. I had to wipe it.'_

'_Dick…'_

'_I don't have a choice M'gann.'_

'_There's always a choice.'_

Even in my mind, her voice is soft but strong. She's so sure that the answer is that stupidly easy and it makes me mad suddenly. Furious.

'_Fine. Then I'm choosing the thing least likely to get everyone I love brutally murdered in an effort to manipulate me.'_

'_Dick, please! You know that's not what I meant.'_

'_Are you going to tell them?'_

'_No! I promised I wouldn't.'_

'_Then trust me, this is not the time to take a stand.'_

"As much as I want to get to the bottom of this, I still have to go. My essay isn't going to write itself."

* * *

When the blinding light fades, I'm standing in an empty Batcave. Batman went on patrol an hour ago and probably won't be back until two in the morning. Maybe later.

I move towards the closet where I keep my uniform. I quickly change into my clothes, pulling my now-useless cellphone out of my utility belt. There are bite marks all along the case and a tiny crack in the screen. Bruce is going to know I used the self-destruct code, but hopefully he won't read too deeply into it. Especially with the obvious signs of Wolf having used it as a chew toy.

I head up the stairs into Bruce's study, careful to move the grandfather clock back into position behind me. There are six huge stacks of paper on Bruce's desk and suddenly I'm very glad that I don't actually have an essay due tomorrow. As much as tonight is going to be miserable, that's one good thing.

"Alfred?" I call as I leave the study and head down the main hallway towards the garage. There's no response, so I shout, "Alfred!"

"I hope you realize there are children trying to sleep upstairs, and they would greatly appreciate your use of a quieter voice." Alfred appears at the top of the stairs.

"Sorry, Alf. I just wanted to let you know that I'm going out for a while."

Alfred looks surprised. "It's nearly eight-thirty. Where could you possibly be going at this time of night?"

"I'm going to hang out with Babs. We had to push back our last hangout because she had a gymnastics exhibition and she's been saving a bunch of clips for her superhero documentary that she wants my opinion on." I lie, cannibalizing the last conversation Babs and I had into a plausible excuse.

Alfred stares at me, his face doubtful. Finally, he sighs "Very well. But I expect you home no later than eleven-thirty."

"No problem! You're the best, Alf!"

I rush towards the garage, grabbing my motorcycle keys off the hook and climbing onto the bike. I rev the engine and set off for the Haunt before I can change my mind... or lose my nerve.

"Ahem." Alfred clears his throat behind me and I stop short, nearly crashing into a wall.

"What?" I ask, trying to keep my face calm even though my stomach is starting to churn. Alfred holds up my backpack, stuffed with folders and completed homework.

"I finished everything," I tell him, panic turning to confusion.

"Take it with you." Alfred says, "Master Bruce will not be pleased if an impromptu sleepover results in yet another day of late assignments."

"I'll be back before 11:30," I remind him. Alfred hums and holds the bag out.

"Indulge me. And give my best to Miss Gordon."

I reach for the bag and freeze. It would be so easy not to take it, to say I changed my mind and want to stay in tonight. It would be so easy to ask Alfred not to let me go, to tell him the truth about Slade.

But I can't. I just… can't.

I sling the backpack over my shoulders and start for the garage again. I hesitate at the door and look back. Alfred is still watching me, face carefully blank, posture unassuming. My throat tightens. My stomach drops.

"Good night, Alfred."

"Drive safely."


	24. Chapter 24

Dick Grayson

The Haunt

Thursday, November 11th, 2012

* * *

I drive through the partially opened garage door and park against the wall. The garage is empty except for two half-dismantled cars, but the lights are on. The garage door closes itself behind me with a heavy whirring sound. I take off my helmet and place it on the seat of my motorcycle as the office door opens. Slade walks out, dressed in his full uniform minus the black and orange mask.

"You were almost late." His frown is set on his face like carved stone. My stomach tightens and my pulse jumps.

"I'm two minutes early!"

"What happened?" He makes the casual question sound like a demand.

"I got caught up with the Team but I left as fast as I could."

He stares at me, his eye moving over my face and I try to meet his gaze without flinching. Finally, he nods his head at his office.

"The doors are unlocked. Go get dressed and meet me in the office."

He steps to the side to let me hurry past him into the fake office, through the hidden closet door and down the hidden staircase. I pause at the bottom of the stairs, putting a hand on the keypad that unlocks the heavy metal door. Right now, I might know that the passcode is 8551947, but he could change it. He has all the power on the other side of the door. If he decides not to let me out again, I'm trapped.

But for now, if I listen to him, I'm okay.

I pull open the door and weave through the identical hallways of matching doors to take the shortest path to my room. The light turns on automatically when I open the door, revealing the same tiny room with a single dresser against the wall and a small mirror and the twin bed with blue sheets against the back wall. The door snaps shut behind me.

Home sweet home, or something like that.

Renegade's uniform is laid out on the bed. I take a deep breath and get changed. The pants are a little looser than my Kevlar uniform, but there are pouches and hidden compartment all the way down the legs. The chest armor is heavy and the extra padding makes my arms feel bulky and awkward. The mask is the worst part. It's a domino mask but it's spikier and wider than my usual one and the mask glue is sticky and pulls at my skin when it dries. The fabric sits weirdly and changes the whole shape of my face. When I look in the mirror, I don't recognize myself.

I just see a monster.

My gear is spread out on top of the drawers. I load the projectiles into the pockets on my hip and tuck the assortment of knives into hidden compartments down my legs. The sharpest looking one goes into a pocket on my waist for easy drawing. The electric bo-staff clips into the pocket in the back. It's easier to load the smoke grenades than it was last time, but after I get them secured I realize something is different.

There's no grenades. That better be a good thing.

I do one last sweep for missing gear that isn't grenades and everything else is in the right place. There's no more stalling. I only have so long before Slade gets pissed at me.

One last deep breath.

I don't want to do this.

The door to Slade's office is open. As I walk in, Slade asks, "I'm sure you're up to date on all your vaccinations?"

"I know you've seen my medical records." I answer, coming to a stop in front of his desk where there's a stack of rolled blueprints waiting. "Why?"

"You're probably aware that there is a widespread outbreak of Dengue in Africa, South America and parts of Central America?"

"Yeah. We talked about it in biology."

"And what did you learn about it?"

Uh… crap, what did Dr. Phillips say? We were just talking about it a few days ago. OH!

"It's projected to spread exponentially into Mexico and parts of the South this season, especially in areas with high mosquito populations."

"That would be correct. There are currently two drugs in development for Dengue treatment, and both regimens are incredibly expensive. Most insurance providers won't cover them, and the disease could become a pandemic. Hizer pharmaceuticals developed the first vaccine for Dengue that has been approved by the FDA. It's projected to hit the market in less than a month and is expected to make enormous profits. However, the company is suspected of replacing the results with fraudulent data and altering the samples that were sent for testing. We need to procure samples of the untampered vaccine for resubmission to the FDA. I'm sure I don't have to explain the number of lives at stake if a fraudulent vaccine is released to the public."

"No." I exhale, feeling almost all the tension drain out of me. I was expecting the worst, but this mission is a good thing. It's not about hurting anyone, it's about protecting innocents from greedy corporations. I can do that. "What do I have to do?"

Slade gestures to the blueprints laid out and starts explaining.

"There's an offshoot utility building just inside the back gate. That's your entry point into the service corridor which runs beneath the entire building."

He outlines the path, making sure that I know what turns to make and where I need to go once I get into the actual building.

"The best entrance to the security office is through the ventilation system, which you'll access through the basement level supply closet. The surveillance system is on a closed network, so everything you do can be caught on camera until you directly access the hard drive. Once you disable the cameras and security measures, you're going to make your way up to the third-floor laboratories. The samples are in the cold room in the back of the lab, in a locked case."

He holds up a roll of fabric and sets it on the table near the blueprints. I look on in confusion while he unrolls it, but it turns out it's just a set of lockpicks.

"Make sure you are wearing gloves at all times. Do not leave any fingerprints. Do not break anything. Do not spill anything. If you are careless enough to spill anything, absolutely do not touch it. The lab is full of compounds that are highly corrosive, flammable and in some cases toxic. Be careful, do you understand?"

I nod. He rolls up the lockpicks and hands them to me. I tuck the roll into a pocket at my hip.

"If all goes according to plan, there's a fire escape at the north-side of the building on every floor. If that isn't an option, all but the central staircase lead to the ground floor. We'll adapt as necessary if the situation arises."

I hesitate. "Do you think it will?"

"If worst comes to absolute worst, your safety is a priority. I'll be in a position to intervene if it becomes absolutely necessary. Just focus on your mission. Understood?"

"Yes sir."

He leaves without another word and it takes me a second to realize I'm supposed to follow. I catch up to him back up in the garage, where he's loading equipment into a light grey van with a generic power company logo on the side.

"Gear check." He says without looking.

"What do I—"

"Is your armor on correctly?" Slade says slowly.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

My throat closes.

"Yes sir." I squeak.

"Projectiles?"

"Yes sir."

"Are your knives stored properly?"

I nod.

"Smoke grenades?"

I swallow, nodding while my hand goes to the protected pouch where the grenades should be.

"Um, Slade?"

"What."

"I don't have grenades."

"Correct. Let's go."

Something in my stomach unclenches, and I don't know if it's from relief that I didn't fuck up or if I'm glad he's not making me blow something up. Slade slides open the van door, loading up the last of the equipment and nods at the one of the seats. I throw my gear in and climb inside, then he hands me a stack of folders.

"Look over the blueprints until you've memorized them. The rest is to keep you busy. Buckle up, it's a long drive."

* * *

The van pulls to a stop and I look up, my heart pounding. We're parked in the middle of the road, but all I can see are trees in any direction.

"Where are we?"

"Two minutes out. Get your gear on." Slade pulls out a laptop and sets it up on the seat next to him. While I double check my arsenal and readjust my gear, he types lines of code. "I'll be monitoring the security network and tracking your progress while you're inside. Here. There's a pocket on the collar for the mic to fit into."

He hands me a black earpiece and a tiny round mic. I put the mic and earpiece in and look at Slade for confirmation.

"Test."

His voice is right in my ear and my stomach tightens.

"I can hear you."

"Good. Your mic is online. Are you ready?"

I take a deep breath.

"Yeah."

He closes his laptop, pulls a windbreaker over his uniform, and turns on the engine. The rest of the drive passes in an instant, and then the woods clear away to reveal a short driveway up to the Hizer property. The van pulls to a stop just inside the service entrance, blocking the security camera's view of the tiny utility building. Slade turns around, handing me a bump key and a matching hammer. I climb out the passenger side and head for the service door, pushing the key into the lock and pulling it out one notch before hitting it with the hammer. It takes two tries to get the lock pins to line up, but the door finally opens. I toss the devices back into the van. All the locks are specialized from here on out, so they're just empty weight.

"I'll be at the rendezvous point," Slade says over my earpiece. I nod and slip inside the building. The walls are lined with electrical boxes and pipes labeled "water" and "steam" run the length of the building. There's a hatch in the floor that leads to the service corridor.

I pull up the trapdoor and pause. Darkness. Electrical buzzing. Dust motes.

There's no one down there.

I climb down the ladder and pull a flashlight out of a side pocket. It's cold and light reflects back at me off all the metallic pipes and electrical cages lining the catwalk.

"This is creepy," I tell Slade, shuddering at the sound of my boots against the steel walkway.

"Three hundred feet. Wait for my signal when you reach it."

The buzzing from the generators is louder down here and the sound sends shivers up my spine. I miss the night-vision lenses in my mask. I miss my holocomputer. I miss being able to track the motion sensors and security feeds and knowing exactly where the bad guys are. I'm totally blind right now except for Slade's voice in my ear.

"Stop." Slade orders.

The corridor keeps going for at least another half mile, but to my right, there's a metal door.

"The supply closet is the fourth door on your left around the corner. There are no active guards on this floor, but the security cameras are all online. Use extreme caution."

I take a deep breath and push open the door. Bright light comes streaming in and my heart skips a beat. The hallways look exactly the same as the ones in Wayne Enterprises. For a second, I almost think I'm in the wrong building, but a directory hanging on the wall dispels that.

"Get moving!" Slade barks and I jump. I click off the flashlight and make my way around the corner, keeping my face turned away from the cameras. The closet is right where he said it would be, and the vent is on the far wall.

I climb over brooms and mop buckets and pull the grate off before climbing inside. Slade went over this part before, so he stays silent as I make my way through the maze of air ducts on memory alone. There's no vent big enough for me to fit through to get into the office, so I climb out the top of the ventilation shaft and into the actual ceiling. Wires and tubing run along the top, while the plaster tiles are thin between the sturdy support beams. I hold my breath as I lean over and pull out a tile.

It lifts out of the frame easily. I set it to the side and glance into the room. A lone security guard sits at her desk, absently reading a magazine in between glances at the security feeds on her computers.

"Knock her out," Slade orders over the com-link. Saying a silent apology to the poor guard who's just trying to do her job, I drop onto the carpet silently and creep along the back wall until I'm right behind her chair. I dart forward and hook my left arm around her neck. At the same time, my other hand locks onto the pressure points in her neck and upper back. She lets out a surprised yell but the grip only takes a second to knock her unconscious.

Guilt sinks through my stomach like a stone.

Grinding my teeth to stay focused, I push her swivel chair to the side and open the security system. I click on the icon for the cameras and a popup demands a password. God, I miss my computer gauntlets. I open up the computer code and start breaking through the encryption.

If Slade would just let me use a prewritten virus the system would already be unlocked. Instead, I have to sort through lines of code manually, break through firewalls and open backdoors in the system one at a time. Finally, I get access to the cameras and set all the input feeds on a loop and delete the footage of me walking through the hallways. Another wave of guilt rolls through my stomach. I push it aside and keep working.

All the laboratories have three passcode locks, and the interior storage has a voice-recognition code. With administrative access, I can send a ping through the system that will give me all the current passwords. The problem is, it will send a notification to everyone with administrative access that the request was sent, and they'll know they were hacked.

"You don't happen to know the passcodes, do you?" I ask Slade over the comm as my fingers fly across the keys, more to distract myself from the gnawing guilt in the pit of my stomach than any expectation that he'll actually have them. Shockingly, Slade doesn't answer. He definitely knows them, but he's going to make my life harder.

Asshole.

Overloading the encryption isn't working, so I decide to try something else. If the programmers used the right formats, it won't work, but sometimes programmers get lazy. I send a cascading request, that will send retrieval requests into the system, tying up the processor. It's basically the computer equivalent of asking for something until whoever you're talking to gets so fed up they give it to you to make you shut up… or at least, that's the basic idea. A string of numbers appears on screen and I can't stop the grin that spreads over my face. Perfect.

Now I just need the other two.

* * *

With the codes written on a paper safely stowed in a hidden compartment, I make my way upstairs. Slade doesn't say anything the entire time, but I can hear him typing on his laptop over my com link. Knowing he's got control over the security cameras and intranet network makes me feel better about walking around in the open, but that also makes me feel so much worse. He's got access to the entire company. Everything they have. Anything they're working on. Company memos, private emails, confidential documents, he can take whatever he wants thanks to me hacking the system open. Does he even need the vaccine? Was that just a distraction the whole time?

"On your left. First door." Slade says, snapping me out of my trance. The lock takes about ten seconds to pick, and then I'm inside the Late-Stage Development Lab. The room is empty of people and full of neatly organized benches and fume hoods, which makes my life a lot easier because I don't have to navigate through a maze. The cold storage unit is in the back of the laboratory, behind half a dozen lab benches and giant ultracentrifuges that look like washing machines.

I thought a chemistry lab would be… I don't know, more evil-sciencey? I definitely didn't expect it to be so cluttered.

There are also a bunch of refrigerators lining the walls. Low-tech, grungy, ordinary fridges. I definitely wasn't expecting that. My curiosity itches, but I resist the urge to open one and look inside. The less stuff I touch, the better. The door to cold storage has a voice-operated lock, but apparently, they also use a regular old lock after-hours. I pull out my lockpicking set again.

Eighteen seconds. I'm getting slow, but I'm not going to tell Slade that.

"The voice-recognition lock is still online," I tell Slade.

"Hold your communicator to the mic," he orders. I pull it out of my ear and hold it up, and whatever Slade does works because the red light turns green and the lock disengages.

"There should be an insulated case on the lab bench next to the door."

"Got it," I say. I pull open the door to cold storage and a blast of freezing air shoots out. I flip the light switch next to the control panel. A bench is piled with transport containers, in case anything temperature sensitive needs to be moved between labs. There are eight locked shelving units arranged in rows.

"Where are the samples?"

"Open the first storage unit on the right." Slade says.

After a few seconds of fiddling with the lockpicks, it swings open.

"Okay."

"Look for a case marked with today's date and read the label to me."

I pull out the box with the right numbers and open it. There are three rows of tiny tubes stored in the case, neatly fit into holes so that only the raised cap is visible. Each of the twenty-four caps has the same printed line of numbers.

"Good. There should be three rows inside the case. Take one microfuge tube from each."

I open the transport case, and I see the same rows of holes, with cooling packs lining the interior. I move the three tubes and close the case, locking it tightly.

"Got it."

"That's all you need. The car is under the north-side fire escape. Don't let anyone see you."

Making it to the north-side utility door without being seen is easy. But when I try the door, but it won't open. Tugging on the handle doesn't help. At all.

"It's locked." I say, trying not to sound frantic. There's no lock to pick on this side, just a flat sheet of metal.

"What?" Slade asks. His voice is low, not betraying any emotions but I know shock when I hear it and if Slade is surprised, I'm screwed.

"It's locked!" I hiss, pulling the handle again.

"There's a side stairwell to your right that leads down to the loading dock. Those doors can't lock automatically. Be careful."

Okay. Don't panic. Don't panic.

I start moving again, heart pounding. The hallways is fully lit and I've never felt more exposed. Every shape out of the corner of my eye makes me jump, every sound—especially the steady beat of the air conditioning—sends another bead of sweat down my back. I can't get caught.

"Stop!" Slade orders, and I trip over myself mid-step. Before I can ask why, I realize that the air conditioner isn't running. Those are footsteps. My grip around the case tightens and I fight back the urge to start sprinting for the exit.

"Whoa, hey! Stay where you are!"

I whip around and my blood freezes. There's a security guard pointing a gun at me.

I don't think. One hand grabs the gun away while the other snaps his wrist back. I hit the magazine release with one hand and the bullets drop out. Then I swing the (disarmed) weapon into the guard's temple, dropping him to the ground like an anvil in The Loony Toons.

SHIT. SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT.

"What do I do?!"

"Keep going to the loading dock. There are going to be more guards. If you have to engage, take care of them as quickly as you can, understand?"

"When you say more guards, how many are you talking?"

"Move!"

Shit. He doesn't know.

I grab the case off the ground where I dropped it, throw open the stairwell door, and charge down two flights of stairs. I'm halfway down the third flight when the door flies open and a team of security guards charges into the stairwell, weapons drawn.

"There he is!"

"Stop!"

"Shit!" I pivot mid-step and charge through the nearest door. The team of guards is right behind me and I need to get somewhere that I have a chance to take them by surprise.

"Left!" Slade orders as I'm sprinting through an intersection, and my shoes skid on the ground as I change directions and run down a new hallway. The hallway opens up into a receptionist area with desks, chairs, tall bookshelves and a light switch.

"Thank you!" I hiss into my comm link as I hit the light switch and the room turns pitch black. I grab a stapler off the desk and duck behind it. Nine guards run in after me, flashlights at the ready. I pull out my bo staff and throw the stapler.

It hits one guard in the head and I jump out from behind the desk. The staff makes contact and drops the first guard while he doubles over from the headshot. Guards two and three go down quickly, and even four is an easy takedown even though she had a few more seconds to realize she was under attack. Five through nine are ready for me, and eight even managed to set off the alarms.

Five on one. Easy.

I really hope this company has good health insurance because I hit them hard. Not like it's bad enough that I'm breaking, entering and stealing, but now I also gave a bunch of people who were just doing their job concussions. I run for the stairwell again, and the alarms are really going off now. By the time I make it to the main part of the building, my ears are pounding from the noise.

"Get out now!" Slade orders with an unexpected urgency. I'm still a few turns from the exit point, and my heart is in my throat while I sprint. I turn the corner and head towards the bridge overlooking the enormous main lobby two floors below.

"I'm in the loading zone. Get outside and you're clear." Slade says as the door comes into view. I just have to cross the bridge and I'm out. A wave of relief crashes over me. Sixty feet to freedom.

I run for it.

A loud whistling sound pierces the air and an arrow lodges itself in the floor by my feet. I stop dead, partly from instinct and mostly from shock.

"Going somewhere?" A horribly familiar voice asks. The wave of relief becomes a typhoon of absolute panic. My throat closes and my legs turn to stone.

No.

No, this isn't happening.

Green Arrow steps out from behind a decorative pillar, putting himself firmly between me and the door.

"I didn't think so." He looks at me curiously. "Are you new? You look new. Interesting color scheme, especially since Halloween was last month."

NO.

I've never thought of Green Arrow as a threat before. He's always just been Uncle Ollie, the fun one who says stupid stuff to make people laugh. He's the one who pretends to get offended by something Mrs. Miriam says so Bruce and I can escape a party unnoticed. He's the one who lets the Justice League poke fun at him and laughs it all off. He's the one who's terrified to lose his son, the one who would do anything to get Roy talking to him again.

But now, he's never looked scarier.

The Green Arrow in his full glory is man armed with laser focus, perfect aim, and a military grade compound bow with enough drawing force to put a projectile though steel. He has decades of combat experience, an arsenal of trick arrows, and a huge size advantage over me. Worst of all, he was the one who taught Black Canary how to fight. And she can still kick my ass with her eyes closed. But right now, Green Arrow isn't just the threat standing in my way. He's the threat that can pull my entire world down around me if he beats me. Or worse… recognizes me.

And one-on-one this isn't a fight I can win.

I tighten my grip on the case, palms sweaty beneath my gloves. I can't even ask Slade for backup, because if I say anything, Ollie will recognize my voice. I'm just praying that Renegade's uniform is enough of a disguise he never puts it together.

"Any chance you want to do this the easy way? You give me that case, take a quick trip downtown and I make sure the judge knows this was just a misunderstanding, how does that sound?"

"Don't say anything," Slade says, like I needed any help to figure that one out.

"No? You sure?" The Emerald Archer asks.

What do I do? What the hell do I do?!

Green Arrow sighs and looks behind me as he says, "They never take the easy way, do they, Artemis?"

Artemis?! SHIT‼

I whirl around, expecting to see an arrow pointing at my face—expecting to see my friend aiming an arrow at me—but the hallway is empty.

Then something slams into me from behind, throwing me back and knocking the case out of my hands. The thing wraps around my arms and down my legs and I hit the ground. My arms are bound to my side by a bolo-arrow, almost the same kind as the ones Batman uses.

"That one gets 'em every time." Green Arrow laughs. "Sorry, kid. It's just me tonight."

He crosses the space between us and bends down to pick up the case.

"Hm…"

He clicks it open and looks inside. "You know, when most criminals are starting out, they go for valuables. Jewelry, money, that kind of thing. Art, if you're into that." He snaps the case shut and sets it back on the ground. "Not sure how stealing a commercial vaccine sample is going to make you any big bucks but it's your life, I guess."

He moves back towards me and I know I only have one chance. My hand closes around the knife in my waist compartment and I turn the blade up. I rip the knife up as hard as I can, pushing off the ground with the other hand, and miraculously, the blade cleaves through the bolo. How that worked, I have no idea, but it did and I can still get out of this mess.

Green Arrow reacts right away, reaching for his bow, but I don't give him a chance.

A knife is not my weapon of choice against him, but it'll take too long to switch it out for my bo staff. I dive towards him, slashing out with my right hand. He uses the bow like a staff and blocks my attack. My left hand grabs the bow and I duck under his strike, using my knife to slash through the drawstring.

"Hey!" Green Arrow shouts, and then his foot snaps up to kick me in the stomach. I stagger back, gasping for air loudly to distract him from the fact that we changed positions and the case is behind me now.

"Nice trick, kid." He glares at me, clutching his broken bow in his left hand. I'd feel worse if I didn't know he had another forty back in the Arrow cave. The case might be in reach, but he's still standing between me and the door. I don't have much time before backups shows, either more guards or the police and my window to escape closes.

My earpiece crackles as Slade says, "—smoke gre—ade—."

That's it. I just need to get one good hit in.

I rush forwards, bringing the knife down in a slashing motion. Green Arrow whips his bow into my hand, knocking the blade away. He steps through and swings the bow down at my legs. I bring up my leg and stomp down, holding the bow in place.

My right hand is burning from being smacked with the carbon-fiber bow, so I pull back my left fist and punch him right in the jaw. Before he can react, I sprint for the case and grab it in one hand while the other reaches for the pocket at my hip.

"Don't move," Green Arrow growls. His crossbow is loaded and aimed at my chest.

I raise my hands directly in front of my body, partially so he can't shoot anything out of my hand and partly so he can see what I'm holding. The case is clenched in my left hand, and in my right…

A grenade, with my thumb on the pin.

Green Arrow's eyes widen as he inches back. His hands start to raise.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey! You don't want to do that. You really don't want to do that, kid."

I move my thumb, just enough so that he can see, and his hands fly up.

"Okay! Look, I'm putting this down. Just take it easy."

He slowly sets the crossbow down on the ground, keeping eye contact with me while one hand stays out in front of him. He slides the crossbow along the ground, away from both of us.

He stands up again slowly, keeping his hands out in front of him. Slowly, I inch towards him, eyeing the door.

He glances back and shakes his head at me.

"If you try to run, we'll find you. Wherever you try to go, we can track you down. It's not too late to do the right thing, kid."

"The exit is compromised. Get out through the front," Slade orders over the earpiece and I stop walking.

Green Arrow notices, and too late, I see him looking at my ear.

"Whoever you're working for, you've gotta know it's not worth it. You're making a mistake." Green Arrow says, and suddenly I feel like laughing. Yeah, no shit Ollie.

I glance down at the lobby floor.

One shot.

I pull the pin and throw the smoke grenade. Green Arrow throws himself back, taking cover before the cloud of smoke erupts. At the same time, I run for the railing of the bridge and grab it with one hand, swinging myself down and letting go.

I fall ten feet and roll when I hit the bridge below. Then I take two steps and launch myself over that railing, falling to the lobby floor and sticking the landing. My boots absorb the blow, and I sprint for the door without checking to see if he's behind me.

I burst through the front door and sprint for the van waiting in front of the building, side door hanging open. I throw myself in and the second I touch the seat, Slade floors the gas. Tires squeal as the van tears out of the parking lot, through the gate and onto the main road.

"Stay down until I say so." He orders calmly as the van hurtles down the road towards the highway. My hands are shaking and my heart is pounding so hard inside my chest that it hurts. My body aches like I just sprinted a marathon and the guilt feels like getting hit by a freight train.

What does a heart attack feel like? It has to feel better than this.

I only realize I've been staring blankly out the van window when Slade pulls off the highway and cruises down a stretch of back roads through the woods. The van jerks to a stop and I jump.

"Stay here."

"Where are we?"

"At the drop." He turns around and holds out his hand. "Give me the case."

I look down and realize I still have a deathgrip around the handle of the storage case. I pry my fingers off and hand it over to him. When he takes it, I feel numb. Everything I did tonight was to get that case. I punched Uncle Ollie in the face and almost blew my cover for it. And now that Slade has it, it hits me that I don't even really know what it is or where it's going. Or who it's going to.

"Renegade! The plates." Slade snaps, and I jump out of my thoughts. He's pointing to a box next to me that flips open to reveal a set of matching Connecticut license plates. I hand them over and he nods at me. "This won't take long. Don't move."

He gets out of the van, taking the mystery case and the new plates with him and slamming the door shut behind him. Being alone in a getaway van, wearing the uniform I used to break into a building and assault about a dozen security guards and steal private property, and sitting in almost complete silence is too much to handle. What's Slade doing? What if this drop was a trap? What if the whole mission was a setup? What if Ollie recognized me and the League is on their way right now? Are we already doomed?

My heartbeat races, my palms sweat and my mouth feels dry. It's not a heart attack, but when all I can do is sit and think about everything that might be going wrong, I'm not that far from a full panic attack. Listening hard I can almost hear voices in the distance, and after a while I see a flash of headlights as another car turns and disappears into the night.

When Slade opens the door and climbs into the driver seat, I almost fall over with relief. He throws the old plates and the fake power company decals onto the seat next to me. Then he turns on the engine and before I know it, the disguised van is back on the highway headed back to Gotham City.

"…What did I do wrong? How did I mess up?"

If Slade is annoyed by the question, he doesn't show it. Instead, he shakes his head. "You did everything right. I'm very impressed. Sometimes things just get out of control and all you can do is improvise."

I should stop there. I shouldn't push my luck. Instead, the next question slips out.

"I didn't hurt anyone, did I?"

"No. The guards are all fine, just unconscious, and at worst you gave Arrow a black eye."

I let out a breath and it feels like a billion pounds lifted off my chest. Slade turns to look back at me and his mouth pinches into a thin line.

"Focus on bringing your heart rate down. I want it to sixty by the time we get back."

I take a deep breath and nod.

Just breathe in and out.

I can do that.

* * *

When we pull into the garage, Slade turns the car off. I follow him into the Haunt, exhaustion creeping in. Was it really six hours ago that I was in Pittsburgh with the Team? The exhilaration of completing a covert mission is totally gone, replaced by dread and guilt.

Slade pauses when we step through the office door.

"I know you're exhausted, so we'll go over your performance in more detail next time. For now, good work. Get changed and go home. If you want to sleep here, I'll send a text to Wayne for you."

"No! No thank you!" I stumble over the words. Before I can make my escape, my mouth decides to let out a face splitting yawn. Slade gives me a look and crosses his arms. My stomach sinks.

"Go to bed."

"No! I'm fine to go home!"

"I'm not asking," Slade orders, his tone dark. Goosebumps erupt down my spine. "In the morning, you can drive yourself to Barbara's apartment and ride the bus to school with her."

My feet freeze, a thousand and one protests on the tip of my tongue, but my mouth is glued shut.

"Now."

"But—" My voice cuts off as soon as it starts when Slade glares at me and my entire body goes cold. At my sides, my hands are shaking and my throat suddenly feels drier than the air in the Arctic Circle.

"You did very well tonight, so I would prefer not to have to punish you for disobedience, especially when you know better. Don't you, Renegade?"

His voice constricts around my chest like a snake, squeezing my lungs and making my heart pound. My palms are sweaty and it's a sudden, horrible reminder that terror is a physical thing that holds you in place while your imagination starts screaming all the most horrible things it can come up with.

"Yes sir." My voice shakes.

"Give me your phone." He orders.

"I… I can't."

The temperature of the room drops five degrees.

"What did you say?"

"I… I don't have it." I say slowly, fighting to get the words out through the waves of terror.

"You don't have it." Slade repeats. Disbelief colors his every word and that's as bad as if I had actually lied to him. "Don't move."

With the way my entire body freezes, I couldn't disobey even if I wanted to. He strides over to the other side of the room and picks up my backpack, roughly digging through the pockets and opening compartments in a furious search. He pulls folders full of notes and homework out and slams them onto the desk with a loud "whap!" My notebooks follow, then my pencil cases, then my disguised utility belt from the bottom compartment, then my headphones and wallet and all the various junk and debris I've assembled. I watch in terror while he rips through it, and for all that it's an invasion of privacy, he doesn't care about anything he's pulled out so far. He throws the backpack to the ground with a frustrated growl and turns on me. I flinch back violently, heart pounding.

"Where is it?"

"It broke! In the cave, right after you texted me! It's completely busted so I left it at home!" The words rush out of my mouth.

"And how exactly did it break?"

"I used the self-destruct to wipe my phone. Wolf started going crazy when I was leaving and snapped it in half."

I swallow hard, eyes glued to the ground. When I finally look up, Slade is watching me with an unreadable look on his face.

"If it was broken already, why wipe the data?"

"What?" My stomach free-falls. Shit, what did I say? What secret did I just let out?

"If Superboy's venom-inflated mongrel already destroyed your phone, why did you bother to wipe it?"

"I— well it was—"

"Stop."

My voice cuts off as my throat decides to snap shut.

"Don't give me any more excuses. Why did you wipe your phone?"

"Wolf jumped on me and grabbed my phone! He was on top of me and my phone was open and every text you sent me was on it and wide open for the entire League to see! They almost saw!" My voice is rising to a panicked frenzy and the words keep spilling out. "If I didn't wipe my phone, they would've found out! Everyone! I didn't have a choice!"

Slade doesn't say anything. The only sound is the computer fan humming in the corner and the Haunt's ventilation. And my heartbeat.

"How did you destroy your phone?"

I hesitate.

"Well?" Slade prompts mockingly.

"Internal self-destruct code on some models of the latest WayneTech phone. It wipes the hard drive and all data beyond recovery."

"What's the code?"

"I only know mine. Wayne Tech Override, RG8 ISD Activate… the codes don't officially exist, they're just for testing purposes. And emergencies. Slade, please, you asked me so I told you, but please don't… don't use it. If it gets out that the codes exist, it'll be bad! Really bad!"

Instead of answering, Slade takes a step forward to invade my personal space. I force myself to stay still even though every instinct I have screams, "RUN!"

"Richard…" Slade reaches for the corner of my mask and pulls it off slowly. I wince as he rips the glue off my skin, but Slade doesn't care if it hurts. He tosses the domino mask on his desk and stares down at me. Wearing a black and orange uniform is bad enough, but without a mask I feel completely naked. "You are not in a position to be making requests of any kind. Do you understand?"

That's a threat! Back off, right now! I force back any protests and stare at the ground.

"Yes sir."

"Good. Tell me, Richard, why do I ask you questions?"

"To… see what I know?"

"No, Richard. I ask you questions because I want an honest, concise answer, which I know you're capable of giving me. If you ever try to withhold something from me again, you will regret it every single day for the rest of your life. This is your only warning."

"I won't!"

"Correct. Now go to bed."

* * *

Dinah Lance

The Watchtower

Friday, November 12th, 2012

* * *

"_Recognized: Green Arrow A-08"_

Dinah looked up as the Watchtower announced Green Arrow's return.

"Hey Ollie," she grinned, "How was Star?"

"Shitty," the archer spat, making his way into the Monitor Room. Dinah rolled her eyes at his dramatics.

"Aw, I'm sure it wasn't that bad," she turned around and immediately dropped her tablet. "Shit, Ollie! What the hell happened?!"

Oliver grimaced. The right side of his face was covered in black bruises, stretching from his jaw up to the underside of his eye. Blood dribbled down the side of his chin from a cut on his jaw.

"Some twerp broke my bow," he threw the offending item on the ground angrily, and Dinah winced when she saw the drawstring had been severed in half. Ollie loved that bow.

"Anyone I know?" She asked.

"Been to any Halloween parties lately?" Ollie snapped. He deflated when Dinah glared at him. "Nah, I didn't recognize him. All black suit, big orange spot on the chest, domino mask but spikier. Probably sixteen. Maybe older."

"Sixteen?! Ollie, you got…" she gestured to the face decorating his bruise, "By a sixteen-year-old?"

"In my defense, he hit like a fucking truck. He's got to be a meta. I had him in a bolo and he cut through it like it was spaghetti. He jumped two stories and hit the ground running. And he broke my bow!"

"Did he give you a name?"

"He didn't say anything. But he's not working alone."

"Why do you say that?"

"He was wearing an earpiece. Someone else was pulling the strings, or at least acting as lookout. And he had a getaway driver ready."

"So, we might be dealing with a new gang of teenage metahuman criminals?"

"Better than teenage mutant ninja turtles." Ollie sighed defeatedly, leaning against the console.

"What were they after?"

"It was at the Hizer R&D labs. They got away with a case. It had three of those micro-sciencey tube things, but I have no idea what was in them."

"Surveillance footage?"

"Wiped. They got into the system before the security guards called in a disturbance."

"Did you get anything?"

"He left this before he faked me out with a smoke grenade and got away," Ollie dug through his quiver and pulled out an evidence bag. Inside was a knife, cut to a wickedly sharp point with a gleaming edge. "We'll have Barry dust it for prints and see if Bruce can track the owner."

Dinah nodded.

"Alright."

Ollie rubbed his bruised cheek, then pushed himself up to go stare out the Monitor Womb windows, letting himself get lost in the view of literal space. Dinah felt her face pull down into a frown while a heaviness settled into her chest.

"Ollie, are you okay?"

"What? No, it just… you know I hate this biological weaponry. Give me an army of gorillas attacking the UN, no problem. But someone steals experimental chemicals to start a plague? I can't imagine how you can do that to other people. It just messes with me."

"Hopefully, that's not what we're dealing with. The report just came back from Hizer security. The lab that got hit is running final tests of their Dengue medication. Our thief made off with three samples of the vaccine," Clark announced as he entered the Watchtower, Diana right beside him.

"All of the security staff that tried to stop the thief were incapacitated." Diana added. "Nothing fatal, but two of them were hospitalized. Whoever was responsible was determined to leave with the vaccine samples, nothing else."

Ollie and Dinah looked at each other.

"Are they trying to reverse engineer it?" Dinah asked.

"The vaccine is scheduled to be brought to market in a few months. It's not enough time to copy the formula and start competitive production before it goes public. Although you never know with big pharma."

"Of course, that's assuming this was corporate-sponsored. And how many corporations hire teenage metas to do their dirty work?"

"I can name one right off the bat." Clark glowered.

"Could be Luthor," Ollie shrugged, scrubbing his face with his hand. "Either way, this is a fucking mess. I hate when new faces show up."

"You don't think it was Luthor?" Diana asked.

"Sixteen to eighteen-year-old probable meta, very well trained, working with unknown partners." Dinah summarized. Clark scowled and Diana frowned.

"I agree that hiring children, particularly ones of unknown skill, is a break from Luthor's usual patterns."

"We'll try and put together a profile. Go back over security footage, see if we can figure out any major players who were involved, try to find a connection between the kid and Hizer." Clark said. "In the meantime, I'll look into this Dengue vaccine and see if there's anything the pharmacists aren't telling us."

"Good. The sooner we deal with this the better." Ollie frowned. He prodded the bruise on his face and winced again. Dinah resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him, but she did bring her hand up to stop him from poking himself any more.

"How was the rest of the party?" She asked, thinking that it was as good a time as any to change the subject.

"The party? It went well, that was a very good idea. I think the extra encouragement didn't hurt them. There was a slight incident with Wolf when Robin left."

"What happened?"

"Apparently, Wolf was aggravated by Robin's phone going off and jumped on him."

"What?!" Ollie demanded.

"Was he okay?" Dinah asked.

"He was fine." Clark assured her.

"His phone wasn't." Diana interjected.

"That doesn't make any sense. Wolf has never done anything like that before!" Dinah shook her head, but as soon as she said the words, her mind was racing.

"That's what the Team said." Diana answered.

"You don't think…"

"What?"

Dinah looked at the other three Leaguers, biting her lip while she tried to decide whether or not she should say it. It was ridiculous, wasn't it? But there was so much that didn't add up.

"Dinah?"

Dinah sighed.

"It seems like every time something happens that doesn't quite add up, it's always about him."

"Are you serious?!" Ollie exclaimed. Clark and Diana exchanged a long glance that Dinah couldn't quite read.

"This isn't just about Wolf's strange behavior, is it?" Clark asked.

"No." Dinah sighed. "I'm just concerned that… there's so much that doesn't make sense. Robin is improving so much faster than any of his teammates, and he's had some drastic personality changes lately. He's late without explanation and runs out on the flimsiest excuses. You can't tell me that's not suspicious."

She held her breath, waiting for Superman or Wonder Woman to leap to the Boy Wonder's defense, but there was silence. They were looking at each other, brows furrowed and Clark's mouth was thinned into a tight line. Finally, Diana spoke.

"If you've noticed it… I think it might be time for you to talk to Bruce."

"Oh boy." Ollie muttered. "It was nice knowing you, Di."

* * *

Wally West

Red Arrow's Preferred Secure Location

Friday, November 12th, 2012

* * *

"Uh… Roy? Is this the right place? Roy? You said you found something?"

"You're welcome." Roy said, appearing out of nowhere.

"Holy shit, Roy!" Wally shouted, jumping a full foot into the air. Roy crossed his arms over his chest and grinned smugly.

"You asked for my help, remember? That means doing it my way."

"Your way includes giving me a freaking heart attack?!"

"Eh, you're young. You'll live. Here."

Wally caught the drive Roy tossed him.

"What is it?"

"A flash drive. You plug it into a computer—"

"I hate you."

"Sure you do. As far as that favor you asked for goes, you're in luck. Long story short, Deadshot's been in Central a lot lately. Nothing that big, just some small henching jobs. If you want to find your killer, I'd start with him."

"What about the others?"

"Deadline's out of commission. He's been in lockup in Sacramento since May. Deathstroke's been pretty quiet lately, but I tracked down a source that says he's been taking jobs for Luthor and some other big names here and there."

"For Luthor? That's gotta be suspicious, right?"

"Suspicious? Definitely. But relevant to your Central City case… not so much."

"What else have you heard about him?"

"Deadshot?"

"No, Deathstroke. I've got a feeling about him."

Roy shook his head and rolled his eyes in the same motion.

"Going off ridiculous hunches and ignoring any actual advice. You're definitely going to win your bet."

"Roy, I'm serious. I just have this feeling that there's something going on that I need to know. Please, if you know anything else about him, I need to know!"

Roy stared at him. Wally was suddenly hyper-aware of how heavily he was breathing and how crazy he must look. There had to be a way to make Roy understand how important this was! Dick's life was literally on the line!

"You're something else, Wals, you know that?"

"So you can't help me?"

"I didn't say that." Roy grinned. "But you can't ask how I found it."

"Done." Wally said instantly.

"The Terminator just took a contract in Lisbon from Moreau."

"Who?"

"Damien Moreau. He's an international smuggler. Art, antiques, money, drugs, weapons, art, nuclear materials, people, and just about anything else you can think of. He's bad, and the people that work for him are worse."

A contract in another country for a high-profile international criminal? For a few seconds, Wally could only stare. That was beyond perfect.

"What do you know about the contract?"

"The only thing I found was an address. But Wally, if you're going to make a move, you have to do it soon. Deathstroke moves fast and nobody's sure where he is right now."

"Thanks Roy. I owe you five."

"You owe me a lot more than five at this point." Roy snorted. "Just one more thing."

"What?"

"Promise me you'll be careful. You can't take these guys lightly."

"I won't. I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Green Arrow, but at least the League knows about this new black and orange menace. I wonder how long it'll take them to put the clues together... and what will it mean for Wally's plan? How much longer is Dick going to be able to keep his secret hidden?


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's where stuff gets convoluted as hell. Hope you like Batfamily stuff, BatCat, and a million plotlines moving at the exact same time. Cause that's what you're getting. Make sure you pay attention to the dates and characters because there's a lot of POV shifts.

Tim Drake

Wayne Manor

Wednesday, November 10th a.k.a. Two Days Before Hizer

* * *

The doorbell rang.

"I'LL GET IT!" Tim hollered at the top of his lungs, sprinting for the door.

"Wait up!" Stephanie shouted. The two of them raced to the front door with Cassie on their heels. Tim reached it first, but Stephanie got her hand on the doorknob so she got to pull the door open. The woman on the other side looked as surprised to see them as they were to see her. She smiled warmly, green eyes twinkling.

"You must be Tim and Stephanie. It's a pleasure to meet you."

They stared at her.

"Hi." Tim said, breaking the silence.

"I take it Bruce didn't mention I was coming." The woman grinned.

"BRUCE!" Stephanie shouted into the manor. Tim winced. Her mouth was right next to his ear and her shout made his eardrums ring. "THERE'S A LADY HERE TO SEE YOU!"

"Miss Stephanie!" Alfred reprimanded, "What have I told you about inside voices?"

"I'm inside and this is my voice. That makes it my inside voice." Stephanie retorted. Tim shook his head from side to side, trying to clear the slight ringing sound.

"A bit quieter next time, please. That's not too much to ask, is it?"

"Mghhhhgnf… no. Sorry Alfred."

Alfred accepted the hug in apology before turning to the woman.

"Miss Kyle, I'm so glad you could join us for dinner tonight. Master Bruce has been most excitable recently."

"Excitable, really? I somehow doubt that."

"I think you'd be shocked. Please come in."

"Thank you, Alfred." Selina smiled warmly, before looking around the manor with a keen eye. "I've never been here without two hundred other people making small talk. The manor's absolutely beautiful."

"That's very kind of you to say, Miss Kyle. Now, volume issues aside, would you two mind showing our guest to Master Bruce's study?"

"Sure!" Stephanie grinned, grabbing Selina's hand fearlessly. "Come on!"

Tim watched them suspiciously. Stephanie wasn't being suspicious, she was just being friendly. But he knew the name Selina Kyle. Why was Catwoman at their house for dinner? Alfred had to know who she was, right? Alfred knew everything, and if Bruce brought a supervillain into the manor without permission, he'd be in so much trouble.

So if nothing dangerous was happening, that still left the question of what exactly Catwoman was doing there. Tim didn't know the answer, so instead of trying to figure it out he followed Stephanie to Bruce's study. When they walked in, Bruce looked up and a big smile spread across his face.

"Selina."

He didn't sound surprised, and neither had Alfred now that Tim was thinking about it. That meant this was planned. He watched as Bruce stood up and gave Selina quick kiss on the cheek. It was sort of like the way Tim's mom used to kiss his dad, but also nothing like that because Bruce actually looked happy doing it. "I'm glad you could come."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." Selina smiled back.

"I see you've met the advance team." Bruce said, ruffling a hand through Tim's hair. "Jason's in the kitchen helping with dinner."

"Where's Dick?"

"He's with the Team. They have a mission tomorrow and Canary is running them through final prep."

"Busy kid. Wonder where he gets that from."

"That reminds me, I've been meaning to ask you about—"

"Come on! Let's go find Jay." Stephanie interrupted Tim's eavesdropping by grabbing his wrist and tugging him to the door.

Tim followed without protesting, but once the door was closed behind them and they were out of earshot, he whirled around and hissed, "Steph! I was trying to listen!"

Steph rolled her eyes.

"Duh, that's why we had to leave."

"I want to figure out what's going on!"

"And you think they're gonna just talk right in front of you? We had to leave so they think they're alone to talk about grown up things."

"How are we supposed to find out what they're saying if we can't hear them?" Tim pointed out. Stephanie flicked him on the nose.

"Oh Timmy. You'll understand when you're older. Come on!"

"I'm eight months older than you!" Tim whined, but followed her down the hallway to one of the sitting rooms that Stephanie had claimed as her personal study. When she made a beeline for the massive Barbie Dreamhouse sitting against the wall, he stomped his feet. "Are you kidding me?!"

"Don't you trust me?" She turned back, blinking innocently with her stupid puppy eyes.

"Ugh. Fine."

Stephanie plopped down in front of the massive plastic tower and opened it up to reveal a four-story hot-pink nightmare. Tim eyed the rows and rows of Barbies with distaste, but Stephanie was staunchly ignoring him while she picked through dolls.

"I'll be Kathy and Hallie. You can be Stella."

She handed him a doll with bright purple hair and blue overalls.

"I don't want to play dolls with you."

Stephanie grinned at him like she knew something he didn't. She flicked something on the doll's back. "How about now?"

Stupid little sisters. Tim didn't have any choice but to take the doll, but once he did, he could hear voices. His eyes widened. Stephanie was gleefully parading her dolls around, but he could hear sounds coming from each of the dolls in her hand too.

"Steph, what—"

"I love going shopping Kathy!" Stephanie announced, waving one doll in the air. "Oh, me too Hallie! What about you, Stella? Where do you want to go shopping?"

"I feel crazy that I'm freaking about this." Selina's voice came quietly through the listening device hidden under Stella's overalls. "What if they hate me? Bruce, was this a mistake?"

"It's going to be fine." Bruce answered.

Tim stared at Stephanie. She blinked at him innocently.

"I believe that wraps up dinner preparations quite nicely." Alfred's voice came through the doll in Stephanie's left hand. Tim could only blink at her.

"You bugged the manor?"

"Duh."

"How many of these do you have?" Tim demanded.

"Stella, study. Kathy, kitchen. Hallie, first floor hallway." Stephanie pointed at the rest of the dolls scattered through the dollhouse. "Bella, Breanna, Georgia, Paulie, Hanna, Hera, Dina—"

"Did you bug my bedroom?!" Tim hissed.

"No!" Stephanie looked offended. "That'd be creepy."

"It's still creepy!"

"Do you want to know what's going on or not? No one ever tells us anything!"

Tim frowned. Steph was right. Bruce and Alfred and even Dick wouldn't always tell them what was going on and Tim hated not getting answers. But Bruce wouldn't be happy once he found out.

"Does Bruce know about this?"

Stephanie shrugged and made a non-committal sound.

"Not if you don't tell him. Are you gonna?"

"He's gonna be so mad when he finds out. Steph, this is a bad idea."

"Well how else are we supposed to know what's going on!"

"We could just ask!"

"Tim, they're not gonna just tell us the truth. We're kids. The truth is for grown-ups."

"Bruce tells us stuff."

"Look, my daddy always said that if you want to get the truth, you need to hear it from someone you trust and also someone you know will lie to you. That way you can figure it out for real." She pointed at the doll. "Truth, and then someone else can tell me the lie."

"Bruce doesn't lie."

"Everybody lies." Steph said matter-of-factly.

"Nuh-uh! Bruce doesn't!"

"Bruce lied to Dick about joining the League! And he tells Dick more than he tells either of us."

Tim looked at the doll in his hand. It felt like a slap in the face, but Stephanie was right.

"What if you hear something you're not supposed to?"

"That's not my fault. I didn't bug the cave or anything. If it's something really secret, it should stay down there. Besides, there's lots of things they're not telling you. Don't you want to know why Dick is avoiding us?"

"He's not!"

"Yeah he is. He hasn't played with us since all the adults got sent to another universe. And he missed my ballet recital."

Tim frowned.

"Can I use them?"

"Not without me…" Stephanie whispered, and then continued in a bright voice, "But if you want to, I'm always happy to play dolls!"

"Master Jason, if you wouldn't mind locating your siblings then I believe we're ready to eat." Kathy announced in Alfred's voice.

Stephanie grabbed the doll back from Tim and flicked the listening devices off. He took it back as she said, "Now we have to pick out a room for Stella. Kathy's the landlady, so you have to negotiate with her."

"I like this room." Tim played along, taking the doll back and selecting at random.

"Excellent choice, ma'am. This room has the best wifi in the house."

"So it's Stella's room now? She wants to paint it blue."

"No!" Stephanie shouted, waving a new doll. "Kathy, you told me I could have it if I got the rent in!"

"Dinner!" Jason shouted from the doorway. Tim jumped a foot in the air.

"We're busy!" Stephanie shouted back.

"Are you guys seriously playing dolls?" Jason demanded.

"Yeah, and we're busy."

"Don't care. Alfred says dinner's ready. Come on, Timbo."

Tim dropped the doll (being careful not to break the hidden listening device) and climbed to his feet.

"Ugh… fine." Stephanie grumbled. "I'll be right there."

Even once they were all sitting at the dinner table, Tim couldn't stop thinking about the dolls. Stephanie made a good point. He wanted to know what was going on just as much as she did. His parents never told him anything and they treated him like a stupid little kid who was just there for decoration. Bruce never made him feel like that, but there were so many things that Tim was "too young to know." He hated the "I'll explain when you're older," and "It's a League matter." Dick got to know! And Dick was only four years older than he was.

But Bruce would be so mad if he found out Stephanie had bugged the whole manor. He always said he kept secrets for a reason. Like how he had to keep being Batman a secret or people might try to hurt their family. Tim didn't know what to do.

"Tim, are you alright?" Bruce asked, putting a hand on his back. "You look distracted."

"Nope!" Tim said quickly.

"You're not alright or you're not distracted?"

Tim thought for a second and decided to nod.

"Yes."

"Tim, it wasn't a yes or no question."

Tim slowly raised his eyebrow.

"…maybe."

Bruce shook his head with a huff that meant he was secretly laughing.

"What am I going to do with you?"

Then the table got quiet. Selina cleared her throat. Bruce nodded at her, drumming one finger on the table nervously. Stephanie kicked Tim's ankle pointedly. He'd been so caught up thinking about Stephanie's dolls that he forgot about how weird it was that Catwoman was having dinner with them. Maybe Bruce did tell him stuff after all. So maybe he should tell Bruce about the bugs all over the manor. But he told Stephanie he wouldn't tell. Maybe he could convince her to tell Bruce…

"I wanted to tell you all at the same time, but Selina and I have been… involved… for a little while."

Tim's head snapped up.

Stephanie gasped.

Jason made a coughing sound.

Cassie slammed her hands against the table and giggled.

"You're getting married?!" Stephanie demanded

"No, they like each other too much for that." Tim answered matter-of-factly even though his brain was spinning. His mom and dad hadn't liked each other that much and they'd been married. Marriage was for people who didn't like each other but had to pretend to. Unless it was an Amazon. Aunt Diana was an Amazon and Tim couldn't imagine not liking someone like her. But Selina was Catwoman and Bruce was Batman and this was too weird but also it made sense.

"We're not getting married," Selina laughed.

"Told you!" Tim crowed. He didn't notice as much as Cassie, who could meet people and figure out if they were mean or nice or if Bruce liked them in under thirty seconds, but at least he could see the looks Bruce and Selina kept giving each other. They smiled at each other, which was different. People smiled at Bruce all the time, especially pretty ladies, but he almost never smiled back. If he did, they weren't real smiles.

These were real. Bruce looked happy, and that was good. Bruce should be happy.

"So if you're not getting married, what's the big deal?" Jason asked.

"Spoon!" Cassie shouted, grabbing at Jason's silverware. He passed her his spoon immediately, only for Alfred to swoop in and replace the metal spoon with a toddler-sized one in a practiced motion.

"Well… if you're all okay with it, I'd like Selina to move in."

The announcement was met with silence. Well, silence and Cassie banging her spoon against the table while giggling like a crazy person.

"Like, live here, move in?" Jason asked.

"That's the idea." Selina smiled, but she looked scared. Tim tilted his head and saw Bruce forcing himself to stop his nervous finger-tapping.

"You don't have to make any decisions right now, we just wanted to let you know where we all stand."

"I appreciate that this is a big thing to ask of you all, so I want you to know nothing is going to happen right away. Before we make any big changes, I want to get to know you guys. Let you get to know me. I was thinking it would be nice to have some one-on-one bonding time. Pick whatever you want to do and we can do it."

Before Tim could figure out how he felt about that offer, Jason smirked.

"Rob a bank."

"Jason." Bruce snapped.

"Go to the bank and stand in line for twelve hours."

"Alright, you can go last." Selina gave a small smile.

"Fine." Jason shrugged. "Gives me time to pick the bank."

"Jason." Bruce repeated.

"OOH! I WANNA GO FIRST!" Stephanie shouted. Tim jumped.

"What do you want to do?"

"Go shopping!"

* * *

Selina Kyle

Palisades Mall, West Nyack

Friday, November 12th

* * *

"So you're gonna be my mom now?!" Stephanie swung Selina's hand back and forth as she skipped down the parking lot towards the mall.

"Not exactly. But I would like us to be friends."

"Pfft, I don't need more friends! I need a mom! You can take me shopping and we'll get our nails done and we can talk about boys and you can say I can't have things and I'll go get Bruce to buy them for me anyways!"

"You watch a lot of tv, don't you?"

"Yeah, why?"

"No reason."

"You wouldn't have said if there wasn't a reason."

"Or maybe I would've if there was."

"OR, you would've if there wasn't a reason to not to would will have."

"Alright, you win. Let's stop that game there please." Selina interrupted, feeling her head start to spin as she tried to figure it out and promptly gave up instead. Stephanie was happy to start a new stream of chatter and question that kept them both engaged through the juniors section, but when they reached the fancy dresses near the changing rooms, Stephanie grinned brightly.

"So when do you pick out a wedding dress?"

"Stephanie." Selina blushed. "We're not getting married."

"But you're moving in. You're buttering all of us up so we don't interrupt the ceremony when the priest says 'if anyone objects to this onion speak now.'"

"Stephanie." Selina laughed, barely resisting the urge to put a hand over her face in amused mortification. "Firstly, it's a union. Not an onion. Secondly, Bruce would much prefer a Rabbi over a priest. Thirdly, and most importantly, that's not what this is."

"Yes it is."

"Who told you that?"

"No one, I figured it out on my own!" Stephanie said proudly.

"Stephanie, you're clearly a very talented detective, but that's not what's happening. Bruce and I aren't getting married, and this isn't a trick to butter you up and make you like me. I just want to get to know you better so if you decide you're okay with it, it's not like a complete stranger is moving into your house and dating your dad."

"But you're not a stranger." Stephanie said, inspecting the flowing purple gown on the mannequin. "You're Catwoman. I know all about you."

Selina glanced around to see if anyone was listening but nobody was paying them any attention.

"Stephanie, I'm not just…"

Stephanie blinked at her innocently. Selina hesitated.

"Can I ask you something?"

"You just did!" She grinned cheekily.

"Another thing."

"Okay."

"You know that I… have done a lot of things I shouldn't have."

"Like stealing." Stephanie nodded. Selina winced.

"Yes. Mostly stealing. But even though I don't do it anymore, does knowing that about me make you uncomfortable?"

"Nope! Why would it?"

Well… that certainly wasn't the answer she was expecting. Batman's daughter not caring about right and wrong?

"Daddy stole stuff too."

"What?"

"Mhm. Cluemaster!"

Selina blinked.

"Your dad is Cluemaster?"

Stephanie nodded.

"If you don't mind me asking, what happened?"

"He got arrested and child protection services determined he was an unfit guardian due to the presence of drugs and household instability." Stephanie rattled off like she'd memorized it word-for-word from a therapist. "He's in Metropolis Penitentiary."

Selina flinched, regretting that she'd asked without thinking. "That's terrible."

"It's okay. I have Bruce! And Alfred. And I like having brothers and being a big sister. And being rich is fun!"

"Stephanie, I'm so sorry. I… I don't…" Selina sighed. "I don't think I'm very good with kids."

"That's okay. Kids are hard." Stephanie nodded sagely. "Well not me. I'm easy. I just like people who buy me things!"

Grateful for the subject change even though Stephanie didn't seem to mind, Selina jumped at the chance to say, "Alright, I get the hint. Are you going to try that one on?"

"Mhm!"

"Well, you'll need shoes to match it. Do you have a pair of heels?"

Two hours later, Selina walked out of the mall four hundred dollars lighter and three bags heavier, plus a gel manicure shinier. Holding her hand with a matching manicure, Stephanie was bouncing up and down with excitement.

One down. Only four to go.

* * *

Jason was hanging out in the kitchen when Selina hugged Stephanie goodbye. After Stephanie ran off to go show off her new dresses to Cassie, Selina tapped Jason on the shoulder.

"Picked a bank yet?"

Jason rolled his eyes at her.

"Nope. Still looking. I'm trying to find one that just doesn't move, you know? Where you stay in the same spot until your feet are glued to the floor and you're trapped for all eternity."

"Well that sounds fun. I hate to get in the way of your plans, but I stumbled across these."

She flicked an envelope onto his lap. Jason picked it up, opened it, and his jaw dropped.

"Are these Revs tickets? Bruce said I had to wait until my birthday!"

"What's life if you can't bend a few rules? Besides, I heard a rumor New England's your favorite."

"They're the best! Are we sitting in the Fort?"

"Where else can you watch a soccer game from? Foxborough is a bit of a drive, so if you'd rather fly I can ask Bruce to lend me the jet…" she winked at him to let him know what she really thought about asking for permission "Or if you want to drive, you can sit in the front seat and tell me all about why the Revs are the best team in the league."

"Deal."

* * *

Selina's apartment

* * *

"How did it go?" Bruce asked as soon as she picked up her cell phone.

Selina couldn't fight the smile on her face.

"Three down. Two to go. Have you talked to Dick yet?"

"Tomorrow. I've been waiting until we both have time to talk about it."

"That's probably smart."

"I had a thought for you and Cassie."

"Hit me."

"There's a lot of programs that offer exercise classes for toddlers and their parents. It could be an excellent bonding opportunity, as an isolated instance or a recurring activity."

"Really? A Mommy-and-Me dance class?" Selina raised an eyebrow, putting her feet up on her couch. Nutmeg the tabby cat hopped into her lap and Selina stroked his fur absently.

"It'll be good for Cassie to spend time with kids her age." Bruce returned. Selina could almost hear his smile over the phone. He was teasing her, he had to be.

"You really think it's a good idea to send me into a room filled with trophy wives who barely spend time with their children? With very expensive, dangly, did I mention valuable jewelry hanging from their wrists, ears and necks?"

"Well…"

"I know that tone. Alright, spit it out."

"Those women are very involved with Gotham's upper crust. They're well connected, and so are their husbands."

"It's a small world." Selina smiled as she figured out where he was going with it.

"And it doesn't hurt to have friends."

"So… I take Cassie dancing, schmooze the young society mothers, and they go home and tell their husbands, 'Oh, you'll never guess who I ran into today! Selina Kyle! I'm sure you remember her, she and darling Brucie have been on and off for years and they've finally settled down, it's so adorable!'"

"Minus the…"

"No, they will call us adorable. Mark my words, mighty caped crusader." Selina teased. "In any case, their husbands mention it to their friends at the golf course, 'That's right, Bruce is finally settling down, that Kyle woman is good for him. She's practically adopted the kids already. What a woman, tits like she has AND willing to step up and raise the kids. Lucky man.'"

"You can stop now."

"No, I'm on a roll. If I have the young mothers, then I have their society friends and their husbands and their husbands' friends and their wealthy, well-connected parents and then… I'm in. You and me together for real, scandal free. The future Mrs. Selina Wayne née Kyle, Gotham Socialite."

"I'm quite literally begging you to stop."

* * *

Dick Grayson

Wayne Manor

Saturday, November 13th, a.k.a. One day after Hizer

* * *

I look up when the sound of footsteps echo through the library. Judging by the weight of the footsteps and the click of the soles, it's Bruce. My pencil flies across the history worksheet as I cross-reference questions with the textbook spread out on the table in front of me.

"Hey Bruce," I call when he gets close enough that I don't have to yell.

"Do you have a minute?" He asks.

"Sure." I close the book and put my papers aside. Then I pause when everything hits me. Bruce's jaw is clenched and he hasn't blinked since I looked up. This isn't normal.

Something's wrong.

"What's going on? Why do you look like that?" I ask, my stomach sinking.

Oh god. Please, no. Please don't let this be…

"Dick… there's something I… we need to talk."

"… Scale of one to actual apocalypse, how scared should I be right now?" I force out.

"Dick, I need you to listen to me," Bruce answers slowly, his voice dark like he's about to drop into Batman's growl.

Oh god.

He knows about Hizer.

He knows about Slade.

He knows about everything.

"Seven? Eight? Top of the scale?" My hands are shaking.

"No."

This is it. Bruce, I'm so sorry.

The pencil in my hand strains under the pressure, but it doesn't snap.

"I'd like to ask Selina to move in."

Wait… he… and Selina… he…

"You WHAT?!"

"I want to ask Selina to move in."

What? No he can't be serious. He's not talking about Hizer, he's talking about….

"Bruce, you… she's Catwoman! She's a criminal!"

"She's been clean for two years. I would never ask her if I wasn't sure."

"Bruce, are you kidding me?! You can't do that!"

"Dick, please listen to me."

"No! You listen! She's a criminal! You can't trust her! She's just trying to use you!"

"She isn't."

"You don't know that!"

"I do. I've talked to Stephanie and the boys, and they've all agreed to think about it."

"Are you kidding me?! You can't do that‼"

"All I'm asking is that you give her a chance."

"A chance?! You want me to give her a chance to make an idiot out of you and put us all in danger?! NO!"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm being ridiculous?! You're the one who wants to invite a known criminal to move in with us! You can't seriously be this stupid!"

I can tell I went too far when Bruce's eyes narrow and he barks, "Dick! That's enough!"

"I don't care!" I throw my pencil on the ground and it shatters on impact. I slam the library doors open so hard the walls shake. Bruce is hot on my heels.

"Dick. Where are you going?" Bruce demands.

"Out!" I scream, storming through the garage door. I throw my helmet over my head and rev up the engine, waiting for the garage door to open.

Bruce yells something back, but I tune him out.

As soon as the door opens enough for my motorcycle to fit through, I throttle the engine and race out of the garage. I expect Bruce to try to stop me, but he doesn't.

I don't know if I'm glad or angry that he didn't.

Catwoman.

Catwoman?!

Really, it's not like I've got enough going wrong in my life?! Course not! Now Bruce decides that he's going to start dating Catwoman!

She's a thief! She's a criminal! She's stolen millions of dollars' worth of artwork from museums and art galleries and charity auctions! She threw me off a building when I was ten!

It's not bad enough that I have to face Bruce knowing that I'm lying to him about everything?! That I broke into a lab, stole a bunch of vaccines and knocked the shit out of a bunch of security guards who were just doing their jobs?! That I punched Ollie in the face to keep my secret safe?! It's really not bad enough that I have to train with Slade twice a week, go on patrol four nights a week, train with the Team and go on randomly scheduled missions, take two AP classes and three honors classes, and deal with six hours of homework every single day?

No! Because now, on top of all that, I have to deal with Catwoman! As a normal person who I will have to be around and talk to and not immediately arrest on sight!

Without realizing it, I drive away from the main road and the city and onto the forested back-roads. Suddenly, I get a crazy idea. Jerking the handle-bar sharply to the left, I steer straight into the woods. Sweat pours down my face as I concentrate on dodging and weaving through trees and over rocks. My fingers clench around the handlebars until they turn white and the rubber digs painfully into my palms. My heart is pounding with adrenaline and anger and a hundred other emotions that I can't figure out. Suddenly, I slam the brakes and pull back as my motorcycle skids to a jerky stop.

I rip off my helmet and throw it against a tree. I kick the kickstand down, my foot leaving a dent in the dirt when it lands. I stomp over to the tree and bend over to pick up my helmet, but something inside me snaps and I whip it against the tree again. Letting out a scream, I slam my foot against the trunk. My foot collides with the solid wood, sending shock waves through my leg.

The tree doesn't budge.

I scream against, kicking the tree again, and then another time. I ball my hand into a fist and punch the trunk as hard as I can. Pain erupts in my fingers and my wrist, burning with the force of the splinters that fly out at me. I stare down at my hand, watching the skin turn red and swell slightly.

There's something calming about punching a tree and watching pieces fly off the bark. The pain in my hand feels right. Simple. I hurt the tree, and it hurt me back. There's nothing complicated about it. Without realizing, my other hand curls into a fist. I stare at it for a second before pulling it back and punching into the same spot. This time, more splinters fly and a tiny crack forms in the surface.

I grin despite myself, ignoring the burning pain in both of my hands.

Then I let go of my control and scream, pummeling the tree with my fists and letting my rage and exhaustion and grief and anger and sadness and pain and everything else free. I put everything I've been bottling up into my fists, pushing everything out so it's not trapped inside me anymore. With every hit, the cracks get louder and louder and unless I'm imagining things, the trunk starts to feel less solid under my fist. My eyes closed at some point and when I stop, panting from exertion, there's a splintering sound. The few leaves left on the tree start rustling and the splintering sound gets louder and then there's a creak that just keeps building and building and I open my eyes in time to see the tree fall.

The crash resonates through the woods, sending a shockwave that leaves everything with an unnatural stillness.

My mind supplies helpful bits of information. It's a pignut hickory, the tenth most abundant native Connecticut tree. Judging by its height and diameter, it was about seventy years old. It's lying on the ground, base splinted in jagged spikes of wood.

I stare, mind blank.

I punched a tree down.

I broke a tree with my bare hands.

I look down. My fists are raw and bleeding, but nothing is broken. They sting, but nothing worse than a few scrapes and cuts.

I look down at the tree and my heart is pounding.

Something is wrong. This isn't possible. I'm thirteen. I shouldn't be strong enough to break a tree but I broke a freaking tree!

What's happening to me?!

My eyes widen when a thought hits me.

I push my sleeves up, staring at my inner forearms.

There.

Just under the crook of my elbow, there's a swollen circle around a raised nub that could have been a bug bite. Batman and I have been fighting against drug runners since I was eight, and looking closely, there's no mistaking it.

That's an injection site, and I have no idea where it came from.

Bruce wouldn't do that to me.

Slade would.

I thought… I thought it was over. I thought Bruce knew about Hizer, about Slade, about Renegade, everything. But instead, he dropped another bomb on me and now I have to deal with Catwoman on top of everything.

That's not the worst of it, though.

For a second, just a split second between kissing my entire life goodbye and finding out about Bruce's new girlfriend, I thought I had a chance. I thought Batman knew. I thought there was a chance he could keep me safe, that he could stop Slade and save me. But he doesn't know. He doesn't have any idea.

I'm trapped worse than ever and I can't do this much longer.

* * *

Selina Kyle

Gotham Aquarium

Sunday, November 14th

* * *

"I like you." Tim announced.

Selina looked up from the pedestal that described the classification of Chondrichthyes in front of the shark tank.

"I… thank you, Tim. I like you too."

"I just thought you should know that." He said, before forging ahead. "Thank you for taking me to the aquarium."

"Of course. I'm glad you like it."

"You can't move in."

Selina blinked.

"What?"

"It's not that I don't want you to. I like you. But Dick doesn't and it was his home first and it's not fair that you can move in and mess him up."

"Tim, I wouldn't."

"Okay. Tell him that. If he says it's okay then it's okay."

* * *

"We have a problem." Bruce and Selina said at the same time.

"Did Tim say something to you?" Selina asked.

"No. Did you talk to Dick?" Bruce asked.

"Dick has no intention of talking to me." Selina said. "Tim supports him completely, which is very sweet. But… he said no."

"Because of Dick."

"No! Bruce, no. I know that look, put it away. We knew this wouldn't be easy, but we'll figure it out. It's not Dick's fault."

Her stomach tightened during the stare off but finally, Bruce sighed.

"You're right."

* * *

Dick Grayson

The Haunt

Wednesday, November 16th

* * *

The garage is empty when I get there. Not really a surprise since I haven't seen any of the mechanics in months. Since I found out what Slade really wanted from me.

It's a typical trip to the Haunt for secret evil mercenary training until I walk into the fake office and stop dead. Lying on the desk is a brand-new tour poster for the Haly's Circus 2012 International tour. A woman with a vivid full face of makeup covers three quarters of the poster, with a list of acts decorating the sides.

I see red. My heart pounds and without thinking I grab the poster, storm down the hidden staircase into the Haunt, and throw open the door to the real office.

"Why do you have this?!" I demand, waving the poster in the air.

"You're not going to like this." Slade says without preamble. "Sit down."

"Slade, what—"

"Sit." He orders, his voice as sharp as ice. My blood freezes.

I sit.

"An investigation into Haly's International Circus opened last night in response to several high-profile thefts following the group's route."

"What?!"

"I've put together a profile for you. The thief is travelling with the troupe and has the abilities of just about all the acts in the show."

"It's not true! They wouldn't-"

"Watch your tone." Slade snaps. I flinch, pulling my hands in and staring at the ground.

"It's not Haly, but it is one of the members. The profile of the thefts all matched the same height and build, so rest assured it's not the entire group."

"Why are you telling me?" I ask, using every ounce of self-control to keep my voice soft.

"I know what that circus meant to you. Go clear their name."

"Are you ordering me to?"

"Please. As if there's any way I'd be able to stop you from going." He holds out a folder and I reach for it, but he pulls back at the last second. "Take whichever of your teammates you want, except the Flash boy."

"What? Why can't I take Kid Flash?"

"He knows you too well."

Oh.

"Batman won't let me just lead a rogue mission."

"Then don't tell him."

"But—"

"Do you want the information or not? Because if you don't care to intervene, I have plenty of things for us to work on for the next few days."

My jaw snaps shut and I stare at the pile of papers on his desk. More account summaries and mission briefings and other things that I know better than to try and read. That's a mistake I'm never making again.

"That's what I thought." He turns around. "One last thing. I'll be out of the country for the next few weeks. While I'm gone, you will attend the activities that you claim to be at during our sessions. Show up to all of them in the same manner you arrive here and stay until the end. Pick one day during the next two weeks to skip something, and instead go to a place that you will be able to sit, work on homework and relax undisturbed. I'd recommend a coffee shop, but kids have strange tastes so I will leave it to your discretion."

"Why?"

"For your alibi, of course."

Of course, he wouldn't just give me a break.

"Do you understand?"

"Yes sir."

* * *

Mount Justice

* * *

"Hi Robin!" M'gann beams.

"Hey." Conner says without looking up. He's standing over a frying pan with a look of intense concentration, and he's frowning at the stove like it personally offended him.

"Hey, M'gann, can I talk to you for a second?"

"Sure. What about?"

"I need your help."

Head tilt. Blink three times.

'_Mindlink established.'_

'_I __really__ need your help.'_

"Of course! Conner, you don't need me to help finish dinner, do you?" M'gann answers cheerfully.

"Uh…"

"Thanks, Con!" I say, grabbing M'gann's hand and leading her towards my room.

"How did your essay go?"

"Could've been better, but I'm lucky it wasn't a lot worse." I tell her. "Batman's going to be even more pissed at me when he finds out what I got on it."

"What? Why is Batman mad at you?"

She closes the door to my room behind her and I take a deep breath.

"Because… I need to go off road. Off mission, I mean. I mean… there's a problem and I really need your help."

"What happened?"

"I told you about the circus, right?"

"The one you grew up in? Haly's Travelling Circus."

"Yeah. They've been on an international tour for the last few weeks but something's wrong. There's been a string of robberies following the exact schedule and travel plans the circus has, plus there's footage of acrobats and tightrope walkers doing the break ins. I think someone's using the circus as a cover and Interpol is going to shut the whole show down if someone can't prove Mr. Haly is innocent. I have to go find whoever's really behind it and stop them."

"But why does it have to be undercover? From the League, I mean."

'_Because Slade is the one who told me about it.'_

"What?!"

"I said, because it's personal." I say louder, just in case there are listening devices in the room. "Here, I pulled up these articles about the robberies."

I hand her my phone, which does really have police reports up, but the real point is to make sure anyone listening in or watching doesn't suspect the real conversation.

'_M'gann, please hear me out. The threat is real. I didn't just take his word for it. Please, I know it seems bad, but the circus was my home. They're still my family. I'm scared that if I don't go find whoever's behind this, it'll get the circus shut down for good. They might even arrest Jack—Mr. Haly.'_

"Why don't you want anyone else's help?"

'_Dick, you have to know it's a trap.'_

'_That's why I need you! You know what's really going on, you can adapt if everything starts going wrong! Please, I can't take the chance that the circus really needs my help.'_

M'gann frowns, her lips pressed together tightly. Finally, she nods.

"What do you need me to do?"

"We'll go in disguise and join the circus as a new act. I've got it all planned out. We'll be Dan and Dawn Danger, brother-sister acrobats. I've already called my school to tell them I'm out sick, so I'm clear for the rest of the week."

"What are we going to tell the League?"

'_We can't tell them about it or they'll try and come.'_

'_Wouldn't it be good to have more backup?'_

'_Not if this is a trap.'_

"We tell them you're taking me out for a flying lesson in the bioship."

"You think they'll buy it?"

"No."

'_But hopefully, they'll think I kept it a secret because of the circus and not because of anything else.'_

'_Okay. I'll do it on one condition. We come up with a plan to get rid of Slade and end this once and for all.'_

'_M'gann, there isn't a way out. He's always ten steps ahead and there's too many people that could get hurt. I just have to get through it.'_

'_And where does it end? What happens when he tells you to betray the team? Or steal secrets from the League?'_

I think of the secret Wayne Tech codes I gave up and my stomach tightens.

'_M'gann, please.'_

'_There has to be a way out, Dick. We'll find it. We have to try. You owe it to yourself.'_

What if she's wrong? What if we try something and it goes horribly wrong and Slade finds out?

But what if she's right? Even if I do everything right, follow every order and keep this secret, Slade still might change his mind and lock me inside the Haunt forever. If I don't try to find a way out, then I really am powerless.

It's worth the risk. As long as he never finds out.

'_Okay.'_

"Then we have a circus to save."

* * *

Wally West

Mount Justice

Friday, November 18th

* * *

Wally checked the monitor logs again, reassuring himself that Batman still wasn't in the Watchtower or the Cave. Wonder Woman was on monitor duty, and the Flash was on the active duty list. According to Tornado, Miss Martian had taken Rob out for a flying lesson in the bioship, so they'd be gone for a while. Conner had roped Zatanna into helping him cook dinner, and Kaldur had just left for a joint patrol with Red Arrow. This was his best shot.

"Flash, come in."

"What's up, Kid?"

"Remember that cold case I've been looking in on?"

"The one you told Roy we made a bet on?" His uncle sounded vaguely amused.

"Yeah, that one. I think I accidentally found something else. You're going to want to see it."

There was a rush of wind through the com, then the sound of the zeta beam activating. A second later, there was another rush of wind and then the Flash was standing next to him.

"What is it?"

"Look." Wally pulled up the League's satellite footage, which was zoomed in on a street in the old city of Lisbon, Portugal. "Roy gave me a lead and I thought it would help if I could see the area and instead, I found this."

"Is that…" Flash frowned, looking at the black and orange figure on top of one of the buildings. He jerked back, whipping around to look at Wally for confirmation. "Kid, when was this footage taken?"

"It's live."

"Shit! Flash to the Justice League! All available members respond. Deathstroke the Terminator spotted in Lisbon. I repeat, all available members respond! Sending coordinates now."

He flicked off his com and turned to Wally.

"Turn your com to the League frequency. I need you to stay here and keep tracking him. He's incredibly dangerous and very slippery. Don't lose him."

"I won't." Wally promised, heart pounding in his chest. With a nod, the Flash disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slade tries to have everything accounted for, but who can predict what a speedster will do? The heroes finally have a to stop Slade once and for all (even if they don't know what exactly they're stopping him from doing). Let's just hope Dick isn't running headfirst into a trap...


	26. Chapter 26

Dick Grayson

Brussels, Belgium

Wednesday, November 16th

* * *

"I'm sorry kids, but you're wasting your time. I'm not adding another act this far along the tour." Mr. Haly says without looking up as soon as we walk into his office. "Thanks for coming, make sure to catch tomorrow's show, and feel free to try again for the next tour."

"At least hear us out." I say, pulling off my sunglasses. "Dawn" closes the door behind us so nobody in the hallway can hear us. Mr. Haly's head snaps up and he stares at me. He doesn't say anything for about a second and a half, then he slumps in his chair and sighs.

"Dick, you know I'm always happy to see you, but you picked a bad time to come visit."

"That's why we're here." I say. "I know about the robberies and I know you had nothing to do with them. We'll make sure whoever's behind it gets caught."

"Dick, I appreciate that, but this isn't your job to fix it. I can't ask you to."

"You're not asking me to. I'm not going to let anything happen to you or the circus."

"How exactly are you planning to fix this?"

"We'll find the person behind this. I know this show better than anyone, and Dawn has a lot of hidden talents. We'll fix this. You have to trust us. Trust me."

"You can always trust a Grayson." Mr. Haly sighs again, conflict written all over his face. "Dick, are you sure you can clear this up?"

"You know I am."

"Damn straight I do. Alright, I'm assuming you'll need costumes, and we'll get you your own sleeper. The videos you sent us, were those your real act?"

"Yeah. Dawn will stick to basics and I'll make sure it's a good show."

"You're going by the Dangers? Dan and Dawn? At least I'm assuming that's why you're blond now."

"Yeah. Jack, I'm sorry, but nobody else can know it's me."

"I figured. Most of our regulars stayed back in the states but there's still a lot of faces that'll remember you. Stick with the newer acts. I'm warning you though, they're not going to be happy we let you join up so late."

"We can deal with that."

* * *

"Here's the plan. I've got all the tour and route info from Mr. Haly. We're staying in Bruges until tomorrow night, then we'll hit Geneva in two days. So far, the thief has struck facilities in Madrid and Paris so we have reasonable certainty of the target they'll hit on this stop. Chances are good that they'll move tomorrow instead of tonight, since they'll make a cleaner getaway if we're leaving the country."

"And you're sure this isn't a trap?"

"Not even remotely. We have to be careful."

"So, we stake out the facility in Bruges. What then?"

"If someone breaks in, we catch them. If not, we regroup here and figure out who our thief is."

"And what if there's no thief at all?"

"Then this is a trap and we get out as fast as we can."

"Dick, if we need to… are you going to be able to walk away?"

"I'm not stupid, M'gann. I know what a big risk this is and I'm not putting you in danger. I just need you to trust me."

"You know I do. I just… I'm worried, Dick."

I sit on my bunk and put my heads in my hands.

"Yeah. Me too."

After a long moment of silence, I stand up.

"We should go practice. Try to get a few sets in before the show tomorrow."

"Right."

* * *

"You must be the new flyers."

"Yup. I'm Dan Danger, that's Dawn. Danger."

"Hi." Dawn waves.

"Nice to meet you. The name's Samuel."

"Firebreather?" I ask, pretending not to know that he joined up with the circus about a year after… I left.

"Good eye, kid. You picked up good time to join up. We just had a big jump from Madrid, lucky the bug didn't hit as hard as it could've."

"What bug?"

"Kinkers getting sick left and right. It's a twenty-four-hour bug, keep your hygiene up if you don't want to be sick for your first show."

'_What's a kinker?' _M'gann whispers.

'_A performer.'_

"So, what'd you say to the big man?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he signed you on mid-tour and gave you your own sleeper. You must have said something good to convince him."

I shrug.

"Come on! A couple first of Mays? You must've."

"Maybe we're just that good." Dawn grins slyly.

Samuel looks surprised for a second, then lets out a boisterous laugh.

"If that's the case, I look forward to seeing what you can do." He gestures to the rigging set up in the middle of the tent, as a dark-haired woman lets herself drop off the tightrope into the waiting net below. "Looks like Megara just finished. The stage is yours."

* * *

About two hours later, I finish leading Dawn through some cool-down stretches. A group of roustabouts walks over once as we're about to leave the tent.

"You two must be the new act." The man on the left holds out his hand. "I'm Mike. This is Shayna and Ray."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Dawn, this is my brother Dan." M'gann shakes Mike's hand. I shake Shayna's hand. Ray waves.

"We saw the end of your practice. That is a wonderful routine!" Shayna smiles. "You are aware that Mr. Haly has very high standards for his trapeze acts, no? You both have a lot of talent."

"Thank you!" Dawn smiles. I can't fight the blush on my face so instead I ask, "Have you been with the circus long?"

Mike shrugs.

"Coming up on a year and a half. Most of my family's back in Detroit so I'll probably jump ship after the next domestic tour. Can't say enough good stuff about this place, though."

"He is just missing his American fast food." Shayna teases, her voice light. "Who else would prefer French fries to all of France?"

"Well, Shay, he's got a point." Ray grins.

"He has not!" Shayna retorts. "Ray, you have barely been with us a month and already you throw around such awful accusations?"

"You're new too?" Dawn asks Ray cheerfully. Ray shrugs.

"I was in between jobs and I thought, why not? I've never worked at circus before. Probably won't stick around that much longer but it's been a lot of fun." He slings an arm over Shayna's shoulder and messes up her hair. "Lots to see, great people, and you can't beat the food."

Shayna laughs before shoving him off of her.

"We must finish packing up the sets." She says. "Please let us know if there is anything you need."

"Good to meet you," Ray smiles, holding his hand out for me to shake.

As they walk away, Dawn smiles.

"They seem nice."

"Yeah." I throw her one of the towels I brought. "Come on. I don't know about you, but I need a shower."

* * *

Thursday, November 17th

* * *

"Anyone seen the rum col?" Shayna calls as she walks through the ring. She looks exhausted and pale, plus all the other little signs that she caught whatever bug is going around. Honestly, I'm not feeling that good either. Halfway through dinner, I started feeling sick, and now I'm sure that I caught the bug too. Crappy timing to be sick before my 'first' show.

"Try the backyard." I answer without thinking, stretched out on the ground in a full split. She thanks me, turns around to head backstage, and then pauses. I look around and see she's not the only one staring at me. Then it hits me that I just answered a question with a really obscure bit of slang with even more slang that I'm not supposed to know. Oops.

"I thought you were a First of May." Megara the tightrope walker finally breaks the silence. My face blushes bright red. I just completely blew my cover as a novice performer and I have maybe ten seconds to think of a way to save the mission.

"I… um… not exactly."

The group of clowns by the front of the ring are all staring now. I'm not sure if the hostility is from the string of robberies following the circus or the irritation at having new performers join late and steal the opening spot, but neither of those things are helping. Next to me, Dawn tries not to look nervous.

"Where were you working before?" One of them asks. I see Omar standing at the back of the group with his arms crossed, frowning at me with deep focus. Shit. I've been trying so hard to stay out of the way and keep away from the seasoned performers. They can't know it's me or the thief will know we're onto them.

How do I get out of this?

"…circdesay."

"What?"

I blush even harder and say it like I'm embarrassed.

"Cirque du Soleil."

And just like that, the interrogative mood breaks. Everyone has a little bit of a laugh and looks away thinking, "No wonder he didn't want to say anything." Thank the universe that everyone hates the Cirque. That would have been embarrassing to blow my cover before we even started the first show.

"Ten minutes!" Mr. Haly shouts, striding into the tent. He's holding his red coat in one hand and his top hat and cane in the other. "Get moving!"

At his words, everyone scrambles to change from pre-show warmups to the frantic last-second scramble before the audience enters.

"Dangers!" He points at Dawn and I with the cane. "You're the top slot. Check the rigging and get up there."

* * *

I stare at the rope ladder leading up to the trapeze platform. I've climbed them thousands of times, not counting the practices M'gann and I did in the last few days. But this… the last time I climbed up to a platform during a show was the day my parents died.

'_Dick, are you okay?'_

'_Yes.'_

I grab the nearest rung and start pulling myself up. It's safe. I checked the riggings five times since dinner, not counting the last check Dawn and I did twenty minutes ago. Everything looks perfect. And even if something goes wrong, there's a net. Mr. Haly almost flipped out when I said we didn't need one, and I'm REALLY not going to argue with him there.

"Welcome! To the Haly, International Traveling Circus! Where the world of this center ring is your oyster! And these are our latest pearls! The Daring Dangers!"

Dawn nods at me from the platform on the other side.

Showtime.

I grab the bar, take a breath, and swing off the platform. On the other side, Dawn does the same. I kick my legs up, building momentum while Dawn ducks her legs up and curls her knees around the bar, hanging upside down. At the height of my swing, I tuck my knees up and let go of the bar, flipping once as I sail through the air. I straighten out and raise my arms in time for Dawn's hands to catch my wrists and the audience goes wild. She lets go of my left hand and I wave at the crowd as we swing back and forth in a one-handed grip. I grab her right arm with my left hand and we switch the grip so instead of facing forwards, I'm swinging backwards. We swing back and forth one more time to build momentum, then she swings me up and I follow the motion, using the momentum to pull my legs up and hook my ankles around the trapeze bar and the wires. At the same time, Dawn kicks her legs up and flips forward, letting go of the bar in one smooth motion so I'm holding both of us up by my feet.

That's a move that would be literally impossible if Dawn weighed anything. Flying might be cheating, but I'm not complaining. The cheers become deafening as we reach the peak of our swing, and Dawn launches herself into the air, flipping twice and landing on the platform.

Our set is ten minutes, but it feels like only seconds. The routine goes almost perfectly. By the end, I can feel myself wearing out, but a quick word to Dawn and her telekinesis makes up for the few near-misses I have.

'_Grand finale.'_ I tell Dawn.

'_Are you good?'_

'_Yeah, I got it.'_

Dawn climbs on top of her bar, swinging herself back and forth. I'm on the other platform, holding the second bar until I can match her rhythm. I push the bar out, letting it swing freely in time with Dawn, and she jumps into the air. Legs straight in perfect gymnast form, she executes a beautiful full (360 rotation with a full twist) and catches the bar on her way down. She hooks her legs over the bar and swings towards me upside down, hands outstretched. As she swings towards me, I jump, grabbing onto her for the last maneuver. We swing once, then I kick my legs back and launch myself into the air. One flip, two, three, and I catch the swinging bar with perfect timing. The momentum is enough to carry me over to the far platform, and I land without so much as a stumble. On the other side, Dawn is beaming and we both raise our hands into the air.

I don't know how I make it down the ladder, but once my feet are back on the ground, I feel horrible. Sweat pours down my face and my whole body is shaking like I just went a hundred rounds with the entire Rogue gallery. Dawn looks at me in concern.

"And there you have it! The DARING DANGERS! Put your hands together folks, you'll never see another act like this one!"

We raise our hands into the air, Dawn putting an arm around me to help me stay on my feet.

'_I didn't know if you were going to make it through.' _Dawn says.

'_Yeah, me neither. Can you help me backstage?'_

'_You think you even need to ask?'_

Samuel rushes past us on our way into the backyard in full costume and makeup.

"Has anyone seen my other torch?!" He asks frantically. Ray looks up from organizing props to hold up the missing torch.

"Here. You dropped it outside the train."

"You're a lifesaver!" He exclaims, snatching it gratefully.

"Break a leg!" Ray thumps him on the back as Samuel heads out for his set. Dawn helps me over to one of the chairs by the makeup tables, and my legs give out as soon as I'm sitting.

'_You look terrible.'_

'_Thanks.' _I answer dryly.

'_Are you going to be able to go tonight?'_

'_I have to be.'_

Dawn frowns, but doesn't say anything.

The good thing about being the first act is that once we're done, we can sit back and take a breath for the rest of the show. We're tucked out of the way, enough that the other flyers don't notice us when they accost Mr. Haly as he comes back from announcing Samuel.

"Haly, what's the big deal?! Giving the top slot to those Danger kids! That's our slot!" Eduardo demands, throwing his hands out.

"Was your slot until you missed that performance in Paris." Mr. Haly growls.

"Carlo was sick! He's better now!"

'_You hear that?' _Dawn asks. _'Carlo missed the show in Paris.'_

"Besides, how can you pick them over us?! You're just giving them special treatment because they toured with the Cirque!"

"How about you both knock it off and be glad I kept your act on the program! And next time, actually watch someone perform before you call them a hack. The day you two fly like that, top spot's yours, guaranteed."

Mr. Haly pushes past them, only to run into a man in a black suit. Even before he says anything, I know he's Interpol. It's the shoes that give him away.

"Oh, for crying out loud, you again? We're in the middle of a show!"

"Then we'll talk after. But we will talk." Mr. Interpol crosses his arms over his chest in a show of intimidation that just makes Mr. Haly fume. "Another city last night, another tech firm robbed. Another stop on your tour. If I prove you're responsible, I will shut you down."

Mr. Haly glares, a shadow darkening his face. "I've got three minutes to gather props and get back to the center ring."

He walks away without another word. I glare at the agent. He's not going to touch the circus. I won't let him. I let the glare slide off my face when suit-and-sunglasses walks up to us, flashing his badge.

"Faraday, Interpol. New act?"

"This was our first show."

"Better hope it's not your last. Word of advice, watch your backs. Something's funny with this show."

"We'll keep an eye out." I say, grinding my teeth together.

* * *

'_You're sure this is the place?'_

I swallow, adjusting the braces on my wrists. Instead of Robin's uniform, I'm wearing a modified version of the stealth suit. The last thing I want is for Batman to find out M'gann and I went on an unauthorized mission by seeing Robin on the Belgian news cycles.

'_According to the intel Slade gave me, this is the most likely target. I've been looking over the briefing and so far, everything he's said makes sense. The only thing is that there's pieces that are left out. He didn't say what was stolen in Geneva, or why the targets are being chosen.'_

'_You think it's deliberate?'_

'_He knows more than he's telling me. I don't know if it's a trap or something else but I have to see it through.'_

Sweat is beading on my forehead and I wipe it off with the back of my hand.

'_How are you feeling?'_

'_Honestly? Like shit. But I'll make it.'_

The breeze sweeps across the rooftop and I shiver.

'_You know, it's probably a good thing it's just you and me.' _Miss Martian says.

'_Yeah?'_

'_Imagine if Superboy were here. Or Artemis. They'd be complaining about how we're wasting our time here or trying to figure out why we're not at any of the more obvious targets.'_

I grin.

'_You have a point.' _I scan the area, looking for any signs of movement but it just looks like a warehouse at night. _'It would be nice to have x-ray vision right now though.'_

Miss Martian frowns, turning sharply to the left.

'_I'm sensing someone else in the area. Northeast quadrant!'_

I turn to look and sure enough, there's someone running towards the fence. The thief pushes themselves off a lamp post and flips over the ten-foot-tall barbed wire fence, and they stick the landing smoothly. There aren't that many acrobats in the show.

'_Found them! Move in.'_

We follow him into the warehouse, staying out of sight. He pulls out a crowbar and pries open one of the crates, removing a high-tech motherboard.

'_Caught him red-handed.' _I think. _'Miss M, I've got the left, you take the right.'_

'_Got it.'_

'_We need to know who it is and stop him from getting away with the tech.'_

I jump down onto a lower catwalk to get a better angle. At least, I try to. My body feels like shit from whatever bug I caught, and the performance took a lot out of me. I make the it to the next catwalk, but it's not exactly a quiet landing.

The thief whips around, staring straight up at my position.

'_Shit.'_

"Might as well come out." The thief says. "I know you're there."

He's wearing all black, including a ski-mask that covers his whole face. So much for getting an ID.

'_What do we do?' _Miss Martian asks.

'_Show ourselves.'_

We drop down from the scaffolding, landing together in front of him. The thief shakes his head like he's disappointed, tucking the stolen tech under his arm.

"Well, well. If it isn't the new act. I knew something didn't smell right about you two."

"Takes one to know one." I shoot back.

"Ouch. Is this the part where you try to stop me?"

"How did you know?" Miss M puts her hands on her hips.

"Call it a hunch. Sorry kids, I'm not in the mood to play games tonight."

He opens his mouth and flames shoot out. M'gann cries out as the fire rushes towards us and I pull her out of the way. I throw a birdarang that the thief ducks, but it gets him to stop breathing fire.

"Come on!" I drag M'gann out of the way, behind a stack of crates. My eyes widen when I read the label on the crates. Live ammo.

"Alright… come out, come out wherever you are." The thief calls, pacing back and forth. "I know you're here somewhere."

'_There's a lot of live ammo in here. We can't risk him lighting the place on fire, we have to draw him outside.'_

'_How?'_

'_Working on it.'_

I peek around the crate. The thief stopped pacing, and he's looking at the crates pointedly. He's seen the label. He takes a breath and I have a half-second to stop him from blowing us to smithereens.

'_He's about to blow! Get the ammo out of the way!'_

Miss M's eyes glow green, and the crates lift into the air and out of the way of the flames. Just in time.

"Nice trick." The thief growls. "You're just full of 'em, aren't you?"

I launch myself at him, aiming a punch at his face. The thief's arm snaps up blocking the blow with speed that even Slade would be impressed by. His leg slams into my knee, knocking me down while his arm hooks under my armpit and around the back of my neck in a hold I can't get out of without snapping my spine.

"And as for you… care to shed some light on how a circus performer got his hands on an experimental acceleration serum?"

"What?"

"Let him go!" Miss Martian shouts.

"I'd say this was fun, but I really don't have time for this. Got a busy day tomorrow."

With that, he lets go of the hold, but there's barely a split second to move before he throws me at the wall like I don't weigh anything.

'_Robin!' _Miss M shouts. I feel a tug as she catches me about three centimeters away from the wall. When I drop to the ground, the warehouse is empty.

He got away.

Dammit.

* * *

Meanwhile…

Wally West

Mount Justice

Friday, November 18th

* * *

Wally checked the monitor logs again, reassuring himself that Batman still wasn't in the Watchtower or the Cave. Wonder Woman was on monitor duty, and the Flash was on the active duty list. According to Tornado, Miss Martian had taken Rob out for a flying lesson in the bioship, so they'd be gone for a while. Conner had roped Zatanna into helping him cook dinner, and Kaldur had just left for a joint patrol with Red Arrow. This was his best shot.

"Flash, come in."

"What's up, Kid?"

"Remember that cold case I've been looking in on?"

"The one you told Roy we made a bet on?" His uncle sounded vaguely amused.

"Yeah, that one. I think I accidentally found something else. You're going to want to see it."

There was a rush of wind through the com, then the sound of the zeta beam activating. A second later, there was another rush of wind and then the Flash was standing next to him.

"What is it?"

"Look." Wally pulled up the League's satellite footage, which was zoomed in on a street in the old city of Lisbon, Portugal. "Roy gave me a lead and I thought it would help if I could see the area and instead, I found this."

"Is that…" Flash frowned, looking at the black and orange figure on top of one of the buildings. He jerked back, whipping around to look at Wally for confirmation. "Kid, when was this footage taken?"

"It's live."

"Shit! Flash to the Justice League! All available members respond. Deathstroke the Terminator spotted in Lisbon. I repeat, all available members respond! Sending coordinates now."

He flicked off his com and turned to Wally.

"Turn your com to the League frequency. I need you to stay here and keep tracking him. He's incredibly dangerous and very slippery. Don't lose him."

"I won't." Wally promised, heart pounding in his chest. With a nod, the Flash disappeared.

Wally held his breath, watching the dots on the GPS that represented the League members as they converged on Deathstroke's location. On the satellite feed, Deathstroke was still hunched over on top of a building, looking through a sniper scope at the building across the street. The com in his ear was buzzing with activity, with Superman coordinating positions at supersonic speeds.

This was it.

It had to be.

Dick was counting on him.

* * *

"Stop right there."

"Superman. It's been a while. I'm flattered, the whole League is here. Well, not quite. What's the matter, I don't rate high enough for Batman to make an appearance?" Deathstroke sounded amused, and not even slightly worried that he was surrounded by the Justice League.

"Make this easy for yourself and turn yourself in." Superman announced.

"I think we both know I won't be doing that. Truthfully, I'm a bit disappointed. Where's Zatara? He put up a good fight the last time we met."

Wally scowled at the screen, wishing that he was halfway across the world so he could slap the stupid smirk off the asshole's mask. The League didn't know that Deathstroke was spying on them or that he knew exactly what Zatara's fate was. He was being an asshole just because he could.

"I'd say I'm sorry to disappoint you," Wonder Woman said, pulling her lasso off her waist to heft it threateningly. "But you've been a threat for too long and your luck has finally run out."

"Has it?" Deathstroke looked up to where the Green Lantern was flying overhead. "Sending Stewart out with the heavy hitters? You're making it too easy for me. What's the matter, was Jordan too busy?"

Over the comm, Wally heard stunned gasps.

"How did you-?"

"Feeling compromised?" Deathstroke taunted.

"However you got your intel, it doesn't matter. You're going down, Deathstroke." Superman stepped forwards.

"You don't want to know my source? And here I thought curiosity was a reporter's prerogative."

Wally choked at the obvious dig at Superman's secret identity, but before anyone could react, Deathstroke was moving. He swung his sword out, swiping through the air where the Flash had been standing an instant before. The Flash dodged the series of attacks with ease until Deathstroke drove him to the left with a hand jab, and when the Flash put his foot down, the tile under his foot gave way.

Wally's heart jumped, pounding ten-thousand beats a minute as he watched his uncle fall.

The Flash let out a startled exclamation as his foot dropped through the hole in the roof, leaving him open for the hilt of Deathstroke's sword to whack him in the forehead. Wonder Woman's lasso caught his sword, holding the blow back and giving the Superman time to pull the Flash out of the trap. The Green Lantern's ring lit up, causing a glowing green ball and chain to appear around his other hand.

Deathstroke pulled against the lasso, and Wonder Woman dug her feet in to hold him.

"Hold him!" Superman shouted, setting the Flash down on the roof. Deathstroke let go of the sword suddenly, and Wonder Woman couldn't adjust for the sudden change in force. She went flying back, and as she did, Deathstroke pulled the rifle off his back and fired six shots in rapid succession. The glowing chain around his wrist faded as Green Lantern raised a shield to protect himself, and Martian Manhunter went intangible.

"Not bad." Deathstroke mused. He backed up to the edge of the roof, stowing the rifle away. "You know, it's a shame. You heroes never seem to remember the most important thing."

"And what's that?!"

"Always keep your exits covered."

Deathstroke held up a detonator and pressed the button. As soon as he did, a string of explosions rocked the base of the cathedral and spewed debris and flames into the air. A cloud of smoke erupted over four of the surrounding buildings and on screen, Wally could see the bricks and stone walls crumbling. Screams erupted over the comm line and from the aerial view, Wally could see just how many explosives the mercenary had set off.

"No!"

"Lantern, Manhunter, with me!"

Superman sped towards the rubble, holding the building up while screaming tourists fled. Green Lantern's ring lit up and a wall of green light appeared to support the crumbling cathedral. The smoke was so thick now Wally couldn't make out anything in the square around the destroyed block, but over the comms he heard screams and rushed orders in frantic Portuguese. Deathstroke tried to disappear in the chaos, but Wally saw a flash of black on a rooftop.

"Wonder Woman, Flash! Don't let him get away!" Green Lantern shouted.

"We've got him!" Flash yelled, speeding after the mercenary while Wonder Woman jumped into the air and flew overheard.

"He's moving west!" Wally told them, fighting to keep himself from shouting over the com. There was enough chaos as it was.

"Keep us posted!" Flash responded.

"This is Superman, broadcasting to all League channels. We need backup with civilian evacuations! This is an emergency, all Leaguers respond! Coordinates sent!"

Wally looked down to see a ping on his phone with the coordinates he'd spent the last half hour staring at. The zeta-beam was right behind him, and they needed backup. Should he go, or should he stay?

"Do you need my help?" Wally asked.

"No! Stay there! Kid, we need your eyes!"

Wally's heart pounded. Stay there? Out of the way? Like a good sidekick? He frowned, grabbing his phone and pushing away from the computer before he could think about it.

Wait, what was he thinking?! This wasn't about him, and it wasn't about the Flash not trusting him. This was about doing whatever it took to save Dick, and that meant doing things the League's way. He sat back down and pushed his phone to the side.

"Got it." He scanned the satellite feed, and as he did, he saw a flash of orange and black on a terra cotta rooftop. "There! Yellow building, brown roof! Across from the one with blue and white tiles!"

"I see him!" Wonder Woman shouted. Wally's head jerked up in time to see her dive down onto a rooftop with her sword drawn. Deathstroke swung around to meet the strike and the shockwave made the roof tiles shake so badly Wally could see it on the screen.

"You left innocents in danger just to chase me?" Deathstroke mocked. "Princess, I'm flattered."

"Have you no remorse for your actions?!" Wonder Woman demanded. "For all the lives you've taken?!"

"Regrets get in the way of business." Deathstroke answered, parrying her blow and redirecting the motion into a downward strike.

"You're a monster, Wilson."

"And you're too attached. Caring is a weakness. Loving people makes you vulnerable."

"What you call weakness, I call strength." Wonder Woman jumped over his leg-sweep, slamming her sword down. Deathstroke matched the strike a swung at her head. "I have no weaknesses for you to exploit."

"Incoming! Wonder Woman, keep him busy!" Flash announced over the com.

Wonder Woman's sword clashed with Deathstroke's in midair. She ducked under a kick and moved in for an elbow strike. Deathstroke swung his blade around and met the hit head-on. When he tried to push her down, she grabbed the hilt and pushed back, locking the two of them in a stalemate.

"Everyone has a weakness, Princess." Deathstroke snarled at her, fighting to overcome her raw strength. Wonder Woman's arms barely trembled, even as she dug her heels into the roof to keep herself from sliding.

"Even you?" She grinned. Even from the satellite feed, Wally could see the mercenary realize something was wrong. He could almost see Deathstroke's eye widen as he pulled back slightly and started to turn his head to look behind him. Out of nowhere, a red blur slammed into Deathstroke, fist meeting head with a deafening crack. Deathstroke crumpled to the ground like a condemned building meeting its first and last wrecking ball. Wonder Woman caught the sword before it could impale the either of them.

Flash screeched to a halt, chest heaving.

"I guess that's a yes." Wonder Woman smiled, relief clear in her voice. "Nice hit, Flash."

"Ow." The Flash shook his hand to wave off the muscle cramp. "He's got a hard head. Is he out?"

Wonder Woman nudged his shoulder with her boot. There was no response. Deathstroke stayed on the ground, motionless and unresponsive.

"He's out." She unraveled her lasso and wrapped it around his wrists and torso. "Just in case."

"Oh, thank the fucking universe." He put a hand to his ear. "This is the Flash. We got Deathstroke. Wonder Woman is securing him now."

At the words, Wally's chest sagged in relief and he let out the breath he was holding. It worked. They won.

It was over.

Deathstroke would be taken into custody, and there was no way he'd escape justice. He'd just blown up three blocks of a foreign city in broad daylight. He'd go to jail for a long time, high-security lockup at the least. Maybe even Belle Rev depending on the sentence.

Robin was safe. Dick was safe.

"Nice work. The authorities are on their way, but we'll work something out to take him back to the Watchtower. We need whatever information he has about the leak." Superman said.

"Right."

"We're gonna be a while with the evacuation. We've gotten everyone clear of the rubble, but we still have a lot more fires to put out. Literally."

"Do you need help there?"

"We're okay. Stay with Deathstroke. I'll send Green Lantern to escort you all to the Watchtower as soon as we can spare him."

"Just give me five minutes." Green Lantern said.

"Take your time." Wonder Woman assured him.

Wally couldn't say how he knew something was wrong. He looked back at the screen and frowned; he could have sworn Deathstroke had fallen on his stomach, not his side. It was only because he was looking that he said anything. The arm motion was small and blurry, but even though it was fast, it still felt like an eternity. And it felt like a perfect dream shattering into a nightmare.

"He's awake!" Wally shouted into the com, but it was too late. He didn't how bad a half-second video delay could be until a concussive grenade exploded right into his com link. Wally winced at the deafening screech, jerking back as Wonder Woman and the Flash screamed.

A second later, he saw his uncle fly backwards off the roof while Wonder Woman stumbled. Deathstroke used the moment to rip the lasso off his arms and throw himself off the side of the roof.

"NO!" Wally shouted, trying to see where the mercenary had gone, but there was nothing.

"FUCK!" Wonder Woman recovered first, flying after him. The Flash was right behind her, a blur of red on the screen.

"Kid! Any sign of him?"

Wally scanned the screen desperately, looking for some flash of orange or black or weird movement but there was nothing. He looked faster, zooming in and out and trying to cover all the streets, but he couldn't see anything.

"No, no, no, no, no! Fuck he's… he's gone."

This was bad. This was very, very, very bad.

* * *

Dick Grayson

Haly's Circus

Friday, November 18th

12:30 pm local time

* * *

"Flag's up!" Megara shouts, peeking her head in through from the backyard.

"You kids hungry?" Samuel asks.

"We'll meet you in a few." I answer. "I have to talk to Dawn about tonight's show."

Performers trickle out of the big tent, heading for lunch, but M'gann still hasn't made any effort to move from the stretches I showed her.

"Hello? Mars to Dawn?"

She shakes her head like she's clearing her thoughts and smiles sadly at me.

"What are you thinking about?"

"It's nothing."

"No, seriously. You look like there's something you want to say."

"No, I…" I give her my most incredulous look and she sighs. "I know you're worried about everything that's going on, but you seem so happy here."

"I am happy." I pause, staring out at the stands. The international tour arranges the rings differently than the domestic one, but it still looks the same as it did the last time I was on the tour. I had just turned seven and my birthday present was that I got to fly with everyone in rehearsal the morning of the show.

My chest aches at the memory. I look up at the trapeze and all I can think about is how my family should still be up there. How much I miss watching my mom throw herself into the air and feeling my heart pound with excitement every time my dad caught her. How excited I was when I would peek out through the backyard to watch my family performing overhead and count the days until I could be up there with them all. How cool it was when Uncle Rick decided he would be the catcher for a few shows and I got to see my dad fly.

M'gann is staring at me and my stomach twists into a knot. Would even a Martian be able to pull someone out of a coma like that?

"It feels like I'm home." I exhale slowly, balling my hands into tight fists. "And every time I land a trick, I keep expecting to turn around and have my parents watching. Before we were old enough to use the trapeze, my cousin and I used to hide behind the bleachers and practice our cartwheels. We thought we were being so sneaky, but Aunt Karla would always ask us why our hands were dirty."

I miss her so much. I miss her and Johnny and Uncle Rick and my parents and the circus and suddenly the tent is suffocating me.

'_I'm so sorry, Dick.'_

'_I'm fine, I just….' _I shake my head. _'I can't let anything happen to this place. I'm scared that we're already too late, and if I'm wrong about Geneva…'_

'_You're right. He's not going to make a move until we get to Geneva.' _M'gann assures me. _'Whatever he's planning, it's taken him at least a month to steal everything. He's not going to abandon his plans now. We get through the show, we get on the train, and whatever happens, we'll be ready.'_

"Right."

* * *

7pm

* * *

'_Everyone's here.'_ I see Shayna talking to Megara the high-line walker, finishing the headcount of the troupe as Dawn and I walk into the dining car. _'Apparently including our thief.'_

'_Told you that you were right. He must've left something on the train._' Dawn says as we grab plates and sit at an empty table near the wall. _'I was worried he would have made a move by now. Especially since Dawn and Dan have been exposed.'_

I take a breath.

'_He knows we're onto him, but with Faraday breathing down everyone's back, he wasn't going to risk making a move in Bruges. He's gotten too far to have Interpol bust him now.'_

'_Do you think Faraday will follow the circus to Geneva?'_

'_Yeah. He's obsessed with catching the thief, and he's followed Haly through seven countries at this point. I just wish we knew what the end goal was. Then we could actually use Faraday's help.'_

'_We just have to hope the thief keeps his cover through the train ride and we'll have another chance.'_

"Mind if we join you?" Carlo asks. Dawn and I jump, and Eduardo gives us a small smile.

"Uh, sure." Dawn says.

I yawn, reaching for my coffee.

"First performance catching up to you?" Eduardo smiles.

"He's just a coffee addict." Dawn grins. I roll my eyes at her.

"We were both wiped after the show, plus I think I caught whatever weird bug's going around yesterday." I say.

"It's nasty. I had it a few days ago." Carlo agrees.

"Look, we… uh… wanted to apologize to you guys. Stuff has been pretty tense around here lately, but that's no excuse for being assholes."

"We watched your act and it blew our minds. Your triple has enough momentum to hit the fourth flip. You know the last time someone on this show could turn a quad?" Carlo asks. I flinch.

Eduardo cuts in, grinning madly at Dawn. "And that jump you did? Carlo would have to sprout wings to get that much air."

Carlo nods.

"We get why Haly let you on. So, from one family act to another, we want to officially welcome you to the troupe."

"Thank you, guys. That's so sweet." Dawn smiles.

* * *

"Of course, growing up in Panama is a lot different now." Carlo says.

"When we go back, it's like a completely different country. But then the little panadería is still there between the skyscraper and the new mall."

"Does it still feel like home?"

"Oh, of course. When you open the door and mamá is making a pot of sancocho the same way her mother and her mother's mother made it, it's always home."

The door opens. Ray walks in, pushing a dolly with a trunk on it. Dawn and I look at each other.

"How long has Ray been here?" I ask, frowning.

"About a month, I think."

"And the robberies?"

Carlo and Eduardo frown.

"Ray wouldn't do something like that."

"Do you think?"

"Good to see you're all making nice." Ray grins at Carlo as he passes us. "Thought you two had picked yourselves some new mortal enemies."

"We've talked it out." Carlo says.

"What's in the box?" Eduardo asks, trying not to sound suspicious. Ray shrugs.

"Audio equipment Mike asked me to move. It weighs a frickin' ton."

"Do you need help?" Dawn offers. Ray smiles.

"As a matter of fact… mind if I take your telekinesis?" Ray bares his teeth in a menacing grin, grabbing Dawn's shoulder. She stiffens, face getting pale. The look of Ray's face changes to feral delight. "Well isn't that a surprise?"

"Let go of her!" I shout, grabbing her arm and wrenching her out of Ray's grip. Carlo and Eduardo shoot to their feet, eyes blazing.

Ray's eyes glow green and an invisible force sends us all flying to the back of the dining car. Tables, chairs, people, everything. People shout in panic and in pain. I hit the ground, trying to cover Dawn and my head at the same time so we don't get pelted by flying furniture.

When the dust settles, I uncurl from around Dawn.

"Are you okay?" I ask. She nods.

"Dan, he took my powers! How did he do that?!"

"He's the Parasite. One of Superman's enemies." I answer. "I can't let him get away."

"I'm coming with you." Dawn uses me to pull herself to her feet. I think about telling her no way in hell am I letting her risk her life without powers, but she's M'gann. She's stubborn and it's not just her powers that make her dangerous. Plus, if she hasn't changed forms, she's still got some power left.

"Let's go."

We run out of the dining car, but the next hallway is empty. The door at the far end snaps shut but there's no sign of him through the window.

"He's gone topside! I'll stall him, you catch him on the other side."

"Right."

I throw the car door open and launch myself up, grabbing the roof to pull myself up. M'gann runs into the next car.

"Parasite!" I shout, stopping him before he flies off the train with whatever's in that trunk. All the stolen tech, I bet.

"You just don't know when to quit, do you?"

"What do you want with this stuff? Why are you framing the circus?"

"The circus? You really think I give a damn about this rat-infested hole? I've got plans, kid, ones that you're standing in the way of. So, in the spirit of fair play, I'll give you one chance to get out of my way."

"Pass."

"How much is Haly paying you for this? However, much it is, you could make a hell of a lot more on my side of it. We could use someone like you."

I hesitate. Robin never gets offers to switch sides (not counting Slade). Maybe I can play along.

"…who's we?"

"They call us Intergang. You and I, we can help each other."

I take a step back and Parasite's eyes glint victoriously. He thinks he hit something. "What makes you think I need help?"

"It's obvious you're running from something. Or maybe someone."

"How do you—"

"I took your powers, remember. All your acrobatics, all your combat skills, I know exactly what you're capable of. Someone spent a lot of time and effort training you to fight. And now you're running around with a disguised Martian, pretending to be brother-and-sister so you can scratch out a living in a circus? You need friends, kid. Protection. Intergang could use talent like you. And all you have to do is walk away from this."

He gestures back toward the train.

"Go back down there, tell 'Dawn' that everything's fine. Finish the tour. We'll contact you."

I look down, partly so he doesn't notice Dawn climbing onto the roof behind him.

"Well, kid? Do we have a deal?"

"Pass."

I flick my fingers, letting the explosive birdarangs fly. Parasite's eyes glow green and he catches them in midair, flinging them out to the sides telekinetically.

"Sorry to hear that." Parasite shakes his head. "But not as sorry as you're going to be when I tear Geneva apart."

He flies into the air, the trunk lifting off the roof and following him. I launch myself into the air, grabbing onto the side of the trunk and pulling myself on top. I jump off, throwing myself at Parasite, grabbing at the pouch on his belt. My hand closes around a something small and flat just as he says, "Sorry. No hitchhikers."

His fist slams into my chest, knocking me backwards. I fall, my back slamming against the roof of the train. I grunt in pain as the wind gets knocked out of me again, scrabbling to grab onto something as I careen over the side.

"No!" Dawn shouts, and then her hand closes around my wrist. She grunts, trying to hold both our weight but I can feel us both slipping.

"There!" Someone else shouts, then more hands grab me and pull me back into the train through the window. My head aches from slamming into the roof, but when the dizziness fades, I'm lying on my back in the destroyed dining car, surrounded by the worried members of the troupe.

"Kid, are you okay?" Carlo demands.

"That was insane!" Samuel barks, but his hands are shaking. "You could have gotten killed!"

The door to the car flies open and Dawn bursts inside.

"Dan!"

"Good catch." I give her a hazy thumbs up, and she throws her arms around me. When she pulls back, everyone is still staring at us.

"What the hell just happened?" Someone demands.

"Why did Ray… how did Ray attack us?"

"Ray was just a disguise for the supervillain known as Parasite. He has the power to drain people's skills and abilities. He's been using all of your abilities to commit the robberies across Europe. That's why the 24-hour bug has been going around."

"What does he want?"

"I'm not sure, but whatever it is, Dawn and I will stop him."

"This is what you do now?" A voice asks solemnly from the back of the car. I look up and my heart misses a beat. Omar the clown and Carlotta the animal trainer, the two longest-standing members of the troupe, are staring at me like they've just put together all the pieces of a puzzle.

"We're going to catch him, but he's not going to come back here. The circus is safe."

Carlotta smiles at me as she moves through the crowd of shaken performers, all warmth and deep-seated wrinkles.

"Such a brave boy," she says, kissing the top of my forehead. "Promise me you'll stay safe."

"I… I promise."

"And come back to visit us without all this silly getup. Your hair looks ridiculous."

I can't help the laugh as she tugs on my bleached-blond hair. I squeeze her hand tightly.

"You have my word."

"Dan, we need to go. Parasite has a big head start and he's got all of my powers."

"Right." I turn back to Carlotta and Omar. "Please, don't tell anyone I was here."

"You have our word."

"Who is—" Eduardo whispers, but Megara elbows him and cuts him off.

"Bioship?"

"Let's go." Dawn nods.

I hesitate, turning back to the assembled performers who just saved my life and also probably figured out my secret. "Good luck with the rest of the tour."

* * *

9:30 pm

* * *

"This would be a hell of a lot easier with my flash drive." Parasite grumbles. He's dropped the Ray disguise, and he's a hell of a lot uglier now. He plus the three-pronged key into the computer terminal and the whole display light up blue. "There. Now let's fire this baby up and see what's left of Geneva when we're done.

The collider lights up blue, one concentric circle at a time. My ears pop as the pressure in the room changes suddenly.

"We have to get him away from the computer so we can disengage it."

"I'll distract him, you get to the computer."

"No! You don't have your powers, it's too dangerous. I'll distract him, you get the key out of the machine. That's what's powering it."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. We don't have time, go now."

The machine starts whirring and deafening thunder cracks outside.

Miss Martian nods and disappears into the shadows. She's getting good at that; almost good enough to be a Bat.

"What do you have against Geneva anyway?" I ask, stepping out into the light with my hands on my hips.

"You just don't stop, do you?"

"Never been a fan of people trying to rip the fabric of space-time apart." I shoot back.

"You know, somehow I'm not surprised. We do have some time to kill before my machine warms up and tears the city apart, so tell you what. Let's have story time before I pulverize you."

His eyes light up green and then a crushing force lifts me into the air and slams me into the ground in front of him. Parasite cracks his knuckles, grinning in vicious delight.

"Your little friend was a beautiful surprise. Nothing quite like the taste of a Martian. What's her story? As far as I know, there's only one Martian on the planet and I hear he's got quite a temper. How'd he like to know there's another one hiding out here?"

I see M'gann creeping along the back wall and pretend to struggle against Parasite's grip.

"No!"

"Oh? So there is a story there. How did a Martian and a science experiment end up as a crime-fighting duo anyway?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I spit back.

"In any case, it's a shame she abandoned you to face me alone. Unless she's hiding around here somewhere. What's it going to take to flush her out?"

He closes his fist and I cry out as the pressure around me gets even tighter.

"She's not here." I grunt, but even though the telekinetic grip is still tight the pain is already fading. "Too dangerous—she doesn't have her powers."

"So you thought you could stop me alone. That's funny." Parasite laughs. "Though as far as you go… acrobatics, combat skills, and you're no Superman, but the strength and accelerated healing were a nice boost. I meant what I said before. You weren't with the League of Shadows, were you?"

"What are you talking about?! I don't have powers!"

"Oh, don't you?"

His eyes glow green again and then the force holding me down becomes a crushing weight.

"AGH!"

M'gann freezes, one hand on the glowing blue key that's powering the massive boson collider. I shake my head as much as I can manage, telling her to keep going. We have to shut down the machine or the whole city's toast.

"That grip is strong enough to shatter an adult human's ribcage, and look at you. Still in one piece. Not for long though."

"No!" I shout as Parasite closes the distance between us and puts a hand on my chest. When he pulls away, I feel dizzy and sick and empty, just like I did when I thought I caught the bug.

"Thanks for the snack, kid. This has been fun; I was worried this whole trip would be boring."

I slump forwards, feeling so drained I can barely sit up. Parasite laughs.

"Any second now, my machine will rip a hole in the fabric of space-time, and you'll be caught dead in the middle."

"I don't think so." Miss M announced.

"What the… hey!" Parasite's eyes light up as he whips around, but M'gann jumps over the control panel and out of the way, key in hand. The blue lights are fading fast and after a second, the whole machine goes dark. "You're gonna regret that!"

"And you'll regret this!" I launch myself at Parasite, aiming a punch at his head. His arm snaps up, blocking my fist and twisting my arm back. I try to pull out of the hold but he's faster and my whole body feels sluggish. A kick in the back with the force of a freight train sends me flying. I hit the ground hard but I force myself roll out of the way of Parasite's foot.

"Sloppy. I have all your fighting skills, remember?"

"That's not all you have." I grunt, throwing myself out of the way of another kick. Parasite is too concerned with crushing me into a powder that he doesn't notice the trail of gunpowder following me.

"I'm clear!" M'gann shouts, and without hesitating I throw an explosive into the trail of powder. The device explodes and the powder ignites, sending a ring of fire shooting up around Parasite.

"Missed me!" Parasite shouts. "You think I'm afraid of a little fire?!"

"I think you should be… that is, if you've taken on a Martian's powers. And weaknesses."

"What?! No! No!" He shouts, trying to escape the ring of flames, but the closer he gets the harder it is for him to stand. "This won't… no! No…"

Parasite slumps over, unconscious. I dash through the flames and slap a pair of power damping cuffs over his wrists. As soon as they're on, I let out a breath. The flames die out as the last of the powder burns away, leaving us alone with an unconscious villain and a depowered particle accelerator. M'gann and I look at each other, breathing heavily and flooded with the post-victory adrenaline.

We did it. It's over. We saved everyone. Everything's going to be okay.

My com beeps suddenly and I play the message without thinking.

"Robin." Batman growls. "You better have a good explanation."

Oh shit.

* * *

11:20 pm local time

* * *

We're an hour into the flight back from Geneva when M'gann clears her throat hesitantly.

"What did Parasite mean that you're a science experiment?"

"I don't know."

"He said you had powers. Strength and accelerated healing."

I swallow, tightening my hands into fists.

"I… have no idea."

"Dick."

"Look, if he's right… it's not like I woke up one day and I could bench press a truck. It's just a lot of little things that I didn't even notice until I—"

"What?"

"Punched a tree down with my bare hands."

"What?!"

"That was my reaction. I think I found an injection site, but I don't know what it is or when it's from."

"Dick, what are you going to do?"

"M'gann, what the fuck can I do? I literally have no idea what's happening, all I know I punched down a tree and found and injection site on my arm. If he's injecting me with something, I have no idea and even if I knew what he was doing, I can't stop him."

"What?! You're just going to let him?!"

"I don't have a choice! What am I supposed to say? Threatening to kidnap me and hurt my family and expose my secret ID is okay, but injecting me with chemicals is where I draw the line?"

"This isn't okay! He's hurting you! He's making you lie to everyone and go behind Batman's back, and now he's injecting you with stuff against your will!"

"Then tell me what to do! He doesn't care about who he has to hurt! If I do what he wants, then I'm the only one he hurts."

"You have to tell the League! We'll only have a chance to stop him if everyone knows what they're dealing with. Isn't it worth trying?"

"Well, what about you? Why haven't you told the team your secret if it's that easy?"

M'gann freezes.

"I…"

"I know you're trying to help, but you of all people understand why I'm scared."

"Robin…"

"You think I'm not scared, M'gann?! Slade's injecting me with some kind of experimental chemical and there's literally nothing I can do about it! I don't even remember him doing it! I would give anything for a way to make him go away but there isn't one that doesn't include him ruining my life and hurting the people I care about!"

"He's already ruining your life."

"I can't risk him going after the people I care about."

"But if we go after him together, we can stop him. He's only one bad guy. He's not going to be able to stand against the entire team and the League."

"I…I'll think about it."

* * *

Bruce Wayne

The Batcave

Friday, November 18th

* * *

"What do you mean he got away?" Batman thundered over the viewscreen. Martian Manhunter winced, but Wonder Woman crossed her arms over her chest.

"He detonated a series of explosions in a heavily populated area to split us up. Then he caught the Flash and I off guard and we lost him in pursuit."

Batman scowled.

"Do we have any leads on his current whereabouts?"

"We've alerted the Portuguese government to be on high alert in case he tries to leave by plane, but Wilson always has a dozen backups." Wonder Woman answered.

"It was pure luck that Kid Flash managed to intercept him. If Deathstroke is truly capable of evading five high-powered members of the league, then he's a much bigger threat than we realized. His capture needs to be made a higher priority." Batman said.

"It's not just his physical skills that make him dangerous." Superman added.

Batman could feel a headache coming on.

"Do I want to know?"

"He's got inside information on the League. Whatever leak we have, he's part of it somehow."

"And by inside information, you mean…"

"Our identities are compromised. I don't know the extent of it, but mine and both Lanterns are definitely out."

It was only by decades of training in restraint and self-control that Batman managed to stop himself from letting loose with a string of expletives that would make even a five-thousand-year-old Amazonian warrior princess blush.

"Scrub the League systems of any personal or sensitive data. Hard copies only, absolutely nothing digitized. There can be no ties to anyone's personal identity. From now on, finding the leak is our first priority. Alert the other members that I'm shutting down access to the League mainframe and re-configuring all of the security systems. Anyone needing to access the mainframe can do so in person through the Watchtower's computer."

Robin was going to hate that, Batman realized as Superman left to make the announcement. He'd understand that it was just a temporary measure, though.

"Who's on duty tomorrow?"

"I am." Martian Manhunter replied. "I will review the footage Kid Flash managed to collect and attempt to discern how Deathstroke made his escape."

"I'm going to issue a statement tomorrow to the people of Lisbon. We managed to prevent any casualties, but the damage he caused was extensive. It's a heavily touristed area and the locals are worried this attack will severely deter visitors. We're going to pledge our aid with some of the reconstruction efforts and try to make people feel safe." Wonder Woman said.

"The League will also pledge funds to aid the locals and rebuild the homes that were damaged." Batman decided. The government would prioritize the landmarks that drew income, while ignoring the people who lived there and actually needed help. Unfortunately, the help the League could give was limited.

"It would have been much worse had the League not been there." Manhunter said, sensing Batman's train of thought. Batman frowned.

"We weren't expecting to face him. Deathstroke has kept a low profile for years. He had the element of surprise and he knew it. We'll be prepared the next time and we'll face and catch him on our terms." Wonder Woman crossed her arms over her chest, staring Batman down. Considering how much she hated losing a fight, it actually reassured him to hear that the Amazonian's confidence was unshaken. He nodded at her, just enough that she would see her declaration had had the desired effect.

"We'll discuss the situation further at the next League meeting. Batman out."

The screen went dark and Batman sighed. He'd always suspected Deathstroke's retreat from high-profile jobs was temporary, but that didn't mean he was thrilled at the prospect of dealing with the mercenary again. Wilson was smart, skilled, ruthless, and a complete bastard. On the bright side, it would feel good to punch him in the face again. Before any punching could take place, the League's security systems needed a complete overhaul. Doing it remotely would be a pain, but he didn't trust anyone else to handle it and spending that much time at the Watchtower would eat up all the time he set aside for the kids.

Speaking of, Dick needed to be informed about the access restrictions on the League's mainframe. Batman checked the time to confirm that the Team's training session had ended, then opened up a line on his com.

"Robin, come in."

No answer. That was inconvenient. Calling his cell phone sent him to voicemail. Almost on a whim, he pulled up the GPS tracker on Robin's utility belt. When the screen came up, Batman frowned.

That couldn't be right.

"Batman to Red Tornado."

"This is Tornado."

"Who's at the cave?"

"Currently, Superboy, Aqualad, Artemis and Zatanna are present."

"Where are the others?"

"Kid Flash was called away by the Flash approximately an hour ago. Records indicate Miss Martian and Robin departed on Wednesday for a flying lesson."

"Wednesday?"

"Correct."

"Where is the ship?"

"Current location is in the outskirts of Geneva, Switzerland."

Batman's scowl deepened into a full Batglare as he looked at the GPS tracker that confirmed Robin was really, truly in Geneva. Without asking or bothering to inform him where he was going.

That was unacceptable.

* * *

Dick Grayson

Wayne Manor

* * *

"How could you go to Europe on an unauthorized mission without asking me?!"

"You're such a control freak! You have to control everything I do!"

"That was reckless and an unacceptable risk!"

"Unacceptable risk?! It's Haly's! It's my family, Bruce! What was I supposed to do, let the whole circus take the fall for Parasite?! And if I hadn't, he would've opened a black hole in the middle of Geneva! So, you're welcome and sorry I'm an incapable, reckless idiot who wants to keep his family safe! And if you forgot, family means the people you care about and protect."

"Go to your room." Bruce growls.

"Sir, yes sir." I spit, putting my hand to my forehead in a mockery of a salute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! That went so badly! Now the League knows that Deathstroke is active again, and he's got a bone to pick with the League. But he's a mature adult who'd never seek out any kind of revenge, right? I'm sure everything will be fine.
> 
> Plus, M'gann has now realized that even though Dick is miserable, scared, and knows what he's doing is wrong, he has no intention of trying to stop Slade. She's really starting to regret promising to keep his secret. That's not a fun spot for her to be in, especially since she's got her own secret to keep.
> 
> Bonus Content: (This really is not at all important for the story it's more that I thought it was funny and then accidentally wrote it.)
> 
> Billy Batson  
Lisbon, Portugal  
Friday, November 18th, 2012  
\---  
If there was one thing Captain Marvel hated, it was sirens. Not the sound—but actually yeah, that was annoying too. Okay, if there were two things that were the same thing that Captain Marvel hated, it was the sound sirens made and what it meant for sirens to be going off. It meant something bad happened.
> 
> Captain Marvel loved being a superhero because he got to help people, but he also hated when he couldn't do anything to help. Doing evacuations like this were good and bad. It was good because he got to make sure people got out of danger, but it was bad because people's homes had been destroyed and a lot of people got hurt. Nobody had died, thanks to the rest of the League, but by the time Captain Marvel had shown up to help with the evacuation, the damage was insane.
> 
> It looked like Deathstroke had tried to blow the whole city up. It made Billy so angry. How could someone be that evil?! He didn't care about the fact that he could have killed thousands, or that now all these innocent people had nowhere to live and eight-hundred-year-old church had been destroyed. He just wanted… Billy wasn't actually sure what he wanted. Maybe he just liked being evil, like Klarion or Black Adam.
> 
> Captain Marvel shook his head, reminding himself not to think about that. Right now, there wasn't anything he could do to catch Deathstroke. His job was to help people get out of the damage zone. There was a steady stream of people who'd been helped out of the destroyed builds that were making their way down the road to safety. Captain Marvel was watching over the steep street that led back to the newer part of the city, making sure that the debris didn't shift or block the road.
> 
> He stared over the line of people making their way down the street. There was a mother shushing a crying baby, a group of men in matching soccer jerseys, a family of tourists that looked shell-shocked, two women with hands held in a death grip, and an old man tottering down the road on his cane who looked like he wasn't going to make it all the way down the hill.
> 
> "Let me help you, sir!" Captain Marvel flew over. The man looked up slowly and blinked at him through the old person stupor. Billy tried not to stare at his glass eye and instead offered his arm out.
> 
> "Oh, thank you young man." The old guy said in a wheezy voice, putting one hand on Captain Marvel's arm and pushing himself forward slowly with the cane in his other hand.
> 
> "Just trying to help." Captain Marvel answered patiently. This was the part that bad guys like Deathstroke would never understand. It was people like this poor old man who got hurt when they did evil things.


	27. Chapter 27

Dick Grayson

The Batcave

Monday, November 21st

* * *

"Where do you think you're going?" Batman crosses his arms over his chest, turning around so he's blocking me from the Batmobile.

"I'm coming with you."

"I need a partner I can trust."

The words hurt like a knife through my chest but I clench my teeth together and push through it.

"You're not leaving me behind." I cross my arms over my chest to mirror him, nodding my head subtly at where my motorcycle is parked. Batman's eyes narrow, but he knows that even if he doesn't let me come with him, I'll follow anyways.

"Fine. But you will follow my instructions. Exactly."

Control freak. But instead of saying that and actually getting myself benched, I nod.

"Fine."

A few seconds and an underground tunnel exit later, the Batmobile is racing through Gotham's streets towards the city.

"What do you think is happening?" I ask. It's been a little while since the Batsignal has been lit, so it could really be anyone.

"Not sure." Batman answers shortly.

"Two-Face? Poison Ivy? Joker?"

"Not. Sure."

"You take point, I've got the henchmen and death traps?"

"Not the time, Robin!" Batman growls. His foot slams on the accelerator and the Batmobile lurches around a sharp turn.

"Sorry," I roll my eyes at the window.

The Batmobile pulls to a stop outside the police department, and the instant the roof pulls back, Batman and I jump out. It takes ten seconds for our grappling guns to bring us to the top of the police station, where Commissioner Gordon waits by the Batsignal.

He turns off the light when he sees us.

"That was fast," he comments, holding out a manila folder. Batman immediately flips through it while I crane my head to see, fighting back a growl of frustration when he makes no effort to show me the files.

"Kidnappings, six of them." Gordon tells me. His eyes flick back and forth between me and Batman. He knows us well enough that he can tell something's off. "Victims are between twenty-eight and sixty. Three work in a gallery in the Arts district, Laverna's. One restorer at the GMA. The other two are local artists."

"Dammit," Batman flicks a picture at me and my hand snaps up to catch it. It's a canvas on an easel, with a green question mark spray painted across the whole thing.

"Riddler."

Gordon nods. "Unfortunately. He's been quiet since his Arkham breakout. We were hoping he was planning to keep that going bit longer. My boys found a calling card at Laverna's and we've got analysts trying to figure out the puzzle now."

"Send me pictures of whatever you found. I'll start at the museum. Have forensics catalog every paint, brush and canvas brand on the workspace, along with any famous pieces that are in the vicinity."

Gordon turns to relay the instructions over the radio, and Batman and I don't waste any time. Batman fires his grappling gun across the street, where it catches on the second floor of an office high-rise. I let out a cackle and throw myself forwards into a free-fall. Just because he wants to take the long way down doesn't mean that I have to.

I lean forwards and tuck my legs in, executing a perfect double flip before extending my arms and catching onto a street lamp. When my palms close around the metal bar, I kick my legs forwards to gain momentum and I release the bar and flip backwards before landing softly on the pavement. The Batmobile is just around the corner and I slide into the passenger seat, pulling up a map of the Art district.

"Three flips was unnecessary." Batman appears in the seat next to me.

"It was efficient." I snap.

Batman pulls on the stick shift and the Batmobile roars into gear. We speed through the streets, rounding tight corners and dodging and weaving through traffic. Batman stops between a Brownstone and a Highrise right behind the Gotham Museum of Fine Art.

The sight of it makes my stomach twist. If Batman was telling the truth, Selina is going to start working there soon, like that fixes the fact that she's a criminal and a thief and a liar. There's no way in hell I'm going in there.

"I'll check out the first studio," I say, reaching for my grappling gun. It's only three blocks from here.

I climb out of the car and aim my grappling gun at the ledge of the Brownstone. Before I can fire it, Batman grabs my wrist.

"You need to be careful," he says, "You got lucky at the Ice Fortress, and I don't need you getting hurt because you're distracted."

"I've got this."

Batman stares at me and it's the longest minute of my life. But he doesn't say anything. He just nods and lets go of my wrist. With him, that's as much as I could hope for.

I shake my head and head for the studio.

Artists don't have a lot of money for security. The first studio has an alarm that hasn't been turned on in about two months. To be fair, it's not like there's a lot worth stealing in here. No offense to Bart Fisher, but his stuff just isn't worth anything close to a Klimt or a Monet. Not that it isn't well-made, but looking at the half-finished canvases lying around the space, he knows how good those are.

I glance at a few more canvases and my opinion shifts a little. His stuff is really good. Most of it looks like a cross between two different famous paintings.

There's a tall easel in the middle of the room closest to the window with a mostly-finished painting on it. The top half looks like an exact replica of Klimt's "Woman in Gold." The bottom half is done in pointillism, a representation of Seurrat's "A Sunday Afternoon."

It's a really cool painting. But is it a Riddler clue?

I look around the space, being careful not to touch or move anything. There are no question marks anywhere, so it's not going to be one of those glaringly obvious clues he leaves sometimes.

There's a mix of different paints on the stool next to the easel, so there's probably not a clue in the paint type. But something on the palate catches my eye. The board is covered in oil paints, half-dried but still a little wet. That means Bart was painting with them recently, within the last day or two.

But the painting on the easel is dry. Once I notice that, I realize I missed something even more obvious. The palate is full of reds and pinks and whites. The painting on the canvas is full of green and blue, with streaks of gold.

This wasn't the last painting he was working on. Someone switched them.

I stop to take pictures of everything before I (carefully) tear through the studio, looking around the canvases for the latest piece. It doesn't take too long to find it. It's leaning against the desk, a large canvas that looks like it was barely started. There's a lot of reds smeared across the top, but the rest of the canvas is blank.

Is that a clue?

I glance over the papers on top of the desk. They're all concept sketches for a piece. The one on top is split in half horizontally, with a sketch of a soup can on the bottom and a series of abstract shapes on the top half. The top of the page says, "Distracans." Which isn't a word, even for me.

Unless it's a portmanteau. In which case it's actually Distra-cans. The top painting is probably called something like "Distra."

The other papers also have some names on them, namely Warhol—which confirms the soup cans—and Garland, who I've never heard of, but Batman might have.

I snap more pictures and take another look around, but this is a good start.

The next studio is only eight blocks away, but when I'm halfway there, an electronics store alarm goes off. I switch direction mid-swing and land on the roof of the store. The Riddler can wait a little longer.

There's a guy in a ski mask by the front door with a machine gun. Talk about overkill. He's lookout, but a quick glance around shows that they don't have anyone guarding the backdoor. They even left their van unattended and unlocked in the small alley between the Best Buy and the Abercrombie, with all the doors open to make a quick getaway.

Amateurs.

First things first, I jump over the side of the roof and land on top of the van before sliding into the driver's seat.

"Really? You left the keys in?" I shake my head. "Guys, come on."

There's a jacket and another ski mask on the passengers' seat. I wonder what would happen if I put them on and pretended to be their getaway driver. Would they realize anything was up before we pulled up to the police station?

I pull the keys out of the transmission, grinning at the thought. Then I hop out of the car, lock the doors and stick the keys in my utility belt. I'll give them to the police later. In the meantime, that should be a nice surprise if any of them get away.

A quick head count gives me six armed idiots robbing an electronics store. They're all armed, which is annoying, mostly because it's complete overkill and that means these guys are mostly likely amateurs and nervous. And nervous idiots with guns are really dangerous. I could charge in, which would guarantee that they start shooting, destroy the store and probably hurt someone, or I could wait for them to try and make their getaway. They don't have any hostages, so there's not really a hurry. Besides, the less property damage that gets caused the better.

The wait is actually pretty short. After they finish loading up the duffel bags with stolen goods, the rush out of the store for the van. As soon as the last one is out of the store, I drop down behind them silently. I grab the first guy by the shoulder and throw him backwards before he can make a sound. Number two turns at the noise and I punch him in the face, knocking him out with one hit. That's about when they realize their getaway van is locked, and the four remaining guys turn around in time to see me hit guy number three in the chest with a side-kick, followed by an elbow strike to the temple.

"Shit! It's Robin!"

I hear a safety click and throw myself into the air, diving out of the way of the bullets.

"Dude stop!"

"You're gonna hit us!" Another yells. They're too busy yelling that they don't notice the birdarang that hits the wall between them, letting off a cloud of knockout gas. Two identical thuds mean they're both out. I throw one more birdarang, knocking the gun out of number six's hand. He puts his fists up to fight, but I block a sloppy punch and answer with an uppercut. Number six drops. A duffle bag filled with stolen electronic falls to the ground, and I pull it off the guy's shoulder.

"Robin, status report." Batman's voice fills my ear.

"Checked out the first studio and stopped a robbery on the corner of East and 42nd. I have six dumb-and-dumbers and some stolen tech with me. They're taken care of. Do you need any help?"

"Negative. I'll call Gordon and have him send out a squad. Rendezvous on the GE building when you're done."

And just like that, I'm stuck waiting around for the cops to show up, while Batman tracks the Riddler down.

It's so unfair.

I wanted to check out the other studio before Batman and I meet up, but now I'm not going to have time to. That means he's checked out five places in the time it took me to do one. I climb up to the balcony and let my legs dangle over the store's sign. The robbers are still tied up, but someone has to keep an eye on them. I stare out over the city and huff. This part is so boring. I can't even put the stolen stuff back because the police have to catalog it as evidence.

While I'm waiting, I look back over the pictures from the first studio. Was the clue the finished painting on the easel or the red one by the desk? Or did I miss it entirely? I haven't seen anything in the news lately about a Klimt or a Seurat, but I know the GMA has some of both artists' works. But if the Riddler was planning to hit the museum for a painting, why did he kidnap a restorer? Better question, why did he kidnap so many artists?

I snort. Maybe he wanted a portrait done.

Finally, I can hear a cop car approaching. Perfect. I have enough time to get to the roof so I can make sure the robbers are taken care of without letting the police see me. It's not that I don't trust them, but I've gotten into some uncomfortable situations with the cops that I'd love to avoid. Like that one cop who really wanted to know if Batman slept upside down, like a real bat. That guy was seriously creepy, but he was persistent. I had to give him props for that, even if the rest of him was underwhelming.

I pull out my grappling gun and swing up to the next roof. I make my way three blocks north when I get a weird feeling, like someone's watching me. There's an alley between the apartment building I'm standing on and the shorter building next to it, so I swing down and drop onto the street. I pull out a birdarang and scan the alleyway. The streetlight flickers, illuminating the shadows for a second before burning out, and I see a flash of orange.

The next second, it's gone so I shake my head to clear it. There's no way Slade would actually be following me. Even if there was, he's still out of the country on whatever contract he took. But judging from the heavy footsteps, there's someone in the alley. They've probably seen me, so better to spring the trap on my own time.

I move forwards slowly, watching the shadows carefully. It's a dark night and it's impossible to make out anything beyond the side of the apartment complex. I step into the shadows, letting the darkness wrap around me. The lenses in my mask adjust quickly and I can make out the outline of a pair of trash cans. I walk towards the end where the two buildings converge, keeping my breathing quiet and my footsteps silent.

A strong wind knocks the cans against the wall and flares my cape out around me, but the sound helps mask the tap of my boots against the pavement. The wall is right in front of me and I reach out my free hand to judge the distance when my gloved fingers slide against the rough surface. I pull them away from the wall while I rub them together to gauge the slipperiness.

There's something wet on the wall. Thankfully, it smells like fresh spray-paint.

I transfer the birdarang to my other hand and pull out a flashlight from my utility belt. Right behind me, cloth ruffles and there's a soft whine, like something electronic charging. Instinct throws the birdarang and launches my grappling gun at the apartment. There's a grunt of pain followed by a burst of electricity. I shoot up into the air, shining my flashlight down into the alley as I do. The light glints off the henchman's eyes, making him flinch. The light also illuminates the modified taser in his hands.

I climb onto the fire escape just in time to dodge a trash can lid. Below me, the henchman is shouting threats and he reaches for one of the cans.

I shine the flashlight down towards the wall, looking at the Riddler-commissioned graffiti. It's the word "Distraction" in bright green and orange paint. I grin.

"Batman, come in. I found something."

Then I flip into the air, soaring over the trash can which crashes into the wall and lands with a clatter on the fire escape. I fall, feet connecting squarely with the henchman's chest. He hits the ground and in an instant, I have a pair of bat-cuffs around his wrists.

"Where?"

"East and 39th."

* * *

"Distraction." I say as soon as Batman lands on the roof next to me. "Fisher was working on a cross between a Warhol and a Garland, he called it Distracans. Assuming the '-cans' was for the soup, the Garland piece was called Distrac-something."

I send him the search through my holocomputer.

"I searched Garland Distraction and sure enough, the Gotham Fine Arts' Commission is hosting a showing with Garland's newest work as the centerpiece. The exhibit opens in two weeks. Quick check into the bios of the other hostages, Hadley Mason was in the same year as Garland at the Savannah College of Art. Two of the other hostages are professional restorers, one who specializes in Pop-art, cubism and post-modernism."

Batman doesn't say anything, but his glare deepens.

"Did you miss the part that Riddler is telling us he's distracting us?"

"Batman, that's the name of the painting. He kidnapped all those painters to make a copies and switch it for the real one!"

"That's one possibility." Batman says. "Don't get ahead of yourself."

"Fine! What did you find?"

"An address." He holds out a business card.

"I thought we weren't to get ahead of ourselves. How do you know it's not just a distraction?"

"Read it."

There are black letters printed onto white cardstock with a logo of a P decorated to look like a sun. The words are complete gibberish.

"It's a cipher?"

"The symbol was used as an identification mark on Rookwood pottery, an American pottery company founded in 1880. The identifying marks left by each individual artist were known as ciphers. This one belonged to Edward Hurley, initials ETH. The first five letters on the card correspond to R,P,E,T and H. Solving the cipher gives an address in the arts district."

"You figured all that out on the way over here?"

"No. I had the card deciphered before you called."

"So I've just been slowing you down this whole time?"

Batman turns away.

"Let's go."

* * *

The address turns out to be an old art gallery. There's nothing in the display windows and it looks like it's been sitting empty for years. But there's a big green, "Le Gentilé Gardener" sign.

"Nigma, you ass." Batman mutters, glaring at the sign.

"What?"

"The Gardener museum heist was the largest art theft in history. The value of the paintings is estimated at $10 million and none of the paintings have been recovered. Back in 2010, Robert Gentile was charged as an accomplice, but its likely he was the fence for thieves."

"So it's basically the Riddler's idea of a joke?"

"At least we can be sure he's stealing art."

"How are we going in?"

"Roof."

I pull out my grappling gun and follow him up the fire escape. There's a raised glass ceiling that looks down into the gallery below. It's a classic Riddler setup.

"Are we going straight down?" I point at the glass. Batman rubs his eyes with one hand, and I don't have to be a Martian to know that he's thinking about all the Riddler lairs he's had to smash through the roof of.

"No."

He pries open the maintenance hatch that leads down to the gallery. We climb down service stairs, and split up at the top floor. I sweep for traps while he combs the building for henchmen.

"No sign of anyone." I report after checking the last room on the floor.

"Take the second floor but stay vigilant. Riddler's men were here."

"You found the break room?" I ask. Batman grunts, which means 'yes and it's empty, so there's an unknown number of henchmen in the building along with the Riddler and I hate not knowing how many or where they are.'

I take the main staircase down to the second floor and the door opens onto a landing overlooking the main floor. There's a big curtain wrapped around the presentation stage, and the room looks like a dusty, abandoned ballroom. It's creepy. It gets even creepier when I open the first door. It's an office that's empty except for a desk and a bookshelf covered by a white sheet. There's an archway on the back wall that leads to another hallway, and I feel like I'm in an episode of Scooby-Doo when the hallway is lined with doors on either side.

"Anything?" I ask Batman over the com.

"No."

"This place is super creepy. And spider-webby."

"Yes." Batman agrees.

The doors at the far end of the hall creaks open slowly and I tense, grabbing a birdarang. But nothing happens after. I let out a huff. There's no way I'm falling for that.

"If this is some weird version of hide-and-seek, I'm not playing." I announced loudly. After a few seconds of bone-chilling quiet, a loud tapping sound emerges from behind the door, echoing down the hallway. It's exactly the sound a carbon-fiber cane hitting painted drywall makes. My eyes basically roll themselves. "Are you seriously standing there tapping your cane on the wall? I can't even see you and I know you look like an idiot right now."

The tapping sound gets louder and I give up. I'm not walking into a trap. If he wants me to fall for it, he's going to have to do better.

"Batman, this building is a bust. He's not here. Let's try the next one." I say, not actually turning my comm on. The Riddler lives to outsmart Batman, but if I get in the way, that ruins all the fun for him. He's even easier to bait than the Joker. Sure enough, the door slides all the way open, revealing the Riddler leading casually on his question-mark cane. He's still standing inside the room, which means he could be a projection. I'm too far away to know for sure.

"Spoiling the fun already, bird brain?"

"You might not have a life, but I have better stuff to do than hide behind a door in the dark." I retort. "You didn't even make a tapping machine, did you? You were actually standing there with that stupid cane the whole time!"

"If games aren't doing it for you, then maybe you can handle a riddle." The Riddler grins. "What can you go over, under and through, but not when you want to?"

"No idea." I throw the birdarang to make sure he's not an elaborate hologram, and thankfully he bats it away with his cane. He's real.

"Not in the mood for riddles either?" He tsks condescendingly. "How about something a little more your speed? Catch me if you can."

Without another word, he disappears through the door. Dammit.

I activate my com.

"Found the Riddler. Second floor, I'm in pursuit. I'm not exactly impressed so far."

"Be careful! Don't underestimate him."

I duck through the door and the room behind it is filled with sheets hanging from the ceiling, forming an impromptu maze. I push through the first sheet and follow the trail of fluttering sheets and echoing footsteps. There's nothing to see but walls of sheets, and I try not to but it's only a matter of time before I'm totally lost and disoriented. I keep up with him for a while, but then I reach the center of the maze and there's just an empty square and no sign of the Riddler. The sheet falls shut behind me.

Shit. This is why I didn't want to come in here.

"I lost him!" I tell Batman. The comm line fills with shouts suddenly, and then I get an earful of heavy breathing and fist meeting flesh.

"Found the henchmen." Batman reports evenly. "Meet me on the first floor. Watch your back."

"Any sign of the hostages?"

Grunt, followed by a loud crash.

"Not yet."

At least the Riddler and the henchmen being here means we're in the right place. For now, it's time to rip apart a sheet maze so I can get back to help Batman. I pull out my bo staff and swing at the nearest sheet to bring it down, but my staff hits a wall.

"Oh shit." I pull the sheet down and there's a wall behind it. The other three sheets come down to reveal the rest of the room. There's a door behind the fourth sheet, and it's locked. "You've got to be kidding me!"

I kick the door, but the hinges hold. Then there's a whirring sound, and the floor starts to slide. A hole in the floor opens, getting bigger and bigger as the floor retracts into the wall. I fire my grappling gun at the ceiling, bracing myself for when the floor disappears completely. The Riddler's riddle clicks. What can you go over, under or through (but not when you want to)? A booby-trap trapdoor.

"Batman…" I hit my comm. Through it, I hear grunting and gunfire and the sound of henchmen hitting the ground. Shit. He's busy.

"Batman!"

There's only a tiny bit of floor left, and then it slides away and I'm hanging over the pit from my grappling hook. I look down, an instead of total darkness or a piranha pit or chainsaws, I see the floor of the main gallery.

Do I risk it?

"Robin, come in. What's your situation?"

"Just hanging out," I say, trying to decide if the drop is a trap or not. "Literally. Locked room, hole in the floor leads to the main gallery. Do I drop?"

After a pause, Batman says, "I have a visual. Be careful."

That's a yes then.

I press a button on the grappling gun and it slowly lowers me down, giving me a view into the gallery. Batman is standing on the far side of the room, and there's a stage with a green curtain in the center of the room. There's no sign of the unconscious henchmen, but from my vantage point I can see a pair of shoes sticking out of a doorway. He must have fought through a different hallway to get there. My grappling line hits the limit and I release it, dropping to the floor.

My feet hit and there's a loud click.

I look down. There's a green light coming from the floor tile I just landed on.

"Robin!" Batman shouts.

"Oh, you bird brain. I can't believe that actually worked!" The Riddler crows, stepping out from behind the curtain on the stage.

Batman pulls out a batarang and growls, "Enough with the games, Nigma. Let them go."

"Uh, uh, uh, Batsy. Unless you want your little sidekick to go kaboom!"

Batman looks over at me, trying to determine the firepower behind the explosive.

"That's right. He steps off that panel…," He snaps his fingers. "Or, you know, if you try and stop me. Now, since you're here, why don't we have a little fun? You think you're clever, let's see how good you at picking the truth out of the lies."

He pulls a cord and the purple curtain pulls away to reveal a semi-circle of hostages tied to chairs. Behind each of them is a copy of Garland's Distraction.

"Six bombs, five fakes, four minutes, three guesses, two clues and one priceless painting right under your nose. Guess wrong, kiss a hostage goodbye. Get three wrong, they all go. Including the Boy Wonder. So, step right up, get as close as you want. But try and untie any of them, and all the bombs go off."

He steps back, and the trap-door on stage lowers, whisking him away to the basement where we can't follow.

"Timer starts now!" His voice calls over the intercom. Batman climbs up to the stage. As he tries to decipher the clues, I look around. There's got to be a way out.

Maybe there's a way to deactivate the pressure plate? What kind of bombs are they? If they're on an electronic trigger, maybe I can use an EMP pulse to knock out the connection.

But something just feels wrong. And not the fact that I'm standing on a pressure plate on top of an explosive.

If any of the bombs go off, there's no way the paintings will stay intact. And if Batman gets it right, the Riddler won't let him walk out with the painting. And if he gets it wrong, what does the Riddler get out of it? He already got the painting, why go through all this after he has what he wanted?

OH.

"Distraction!" I shout, "This is-"

"Uh-uh, Robin. You're not part of the game," the Riddler booms over the intercom. "But if you're feeling left out, I'll give you something that's more at your level. Ten seconds to tell me, what do you call a sidekick that's not less off?"

My face burns.

"More on."

"Bingo!"

"Keep him talking, Robin," Batman orders through the comm.

"You're the moron!" I shout up at the security cameras. "Stealing a painting only to blow it up? You could've just stolen it when we were investigating the missing artists. Instead, you're going to all this trouble just to get yourself dragged back to Arkham. Where you belong!"

"That's the problem with kids today. No respect for their elders."

"Calling yourself old? I don't even need to insult you, you're doing it for me." I taunt.

"Be ready to jump." Batman tells me.

"Of course, you missed a few things." I add. "Egotistical, insecure, smelly, self-inflated, and don't forget balding!"

The Riddler makes a tsking sound. "Well, I hope you enjoyed your little outburst, because it's the last thing you'll ever do. Looks like Batty's out of time, and he hasn't made up his mind. And if he doesn't pick, he forfeits. In five, four, three, two…"

"Now!" Batman yells. I throw myself into the air and shoot my grappling hook at the far wall. The line shoots me towards the wall while behind me, the pressure-plate explosive detonates. The explosion burns behind me, but my cape absorbs most of the heat and debris. I land on the ground and there's a massive chasm behind me. On the stage, Batman stands up. The hostages are huddled behind him, untied and looking awed.

"It's over Nigma." He presses a button on his gauntlet and Commissioner Gordon says, "Got your tip. My boys caught a squad of henchmen red-handed at the Garland exhibit. They're in custody and the paintings are all accounted for."

"Good try, Batman, but you're still too late. I'm long gone." The Riddler laughs. "I already got what I needed."

I hear cop cars outside and Batman pries open the trapdoor Nigma disappeared through.

"Wait here." He says.

"But I can-"

He's gone. The cops bust through the door, guns raised and ready to fight. They take in the smoking pillars and giant chasm where the bomb went off.

"He's gone." I tell the lead officer. "Batman's clearing the perimeter."

"Alright. Let's get these people out." He says, and instantly there's a bustle of motion. Pairs of cops lead the hostages out and ambulances are already waiting outside.

"We'll take it from here." Officer Blake says.

Her partner's lip twitches before he adds, "You guys are really something, you know?"

I try to smile, but it feels empty. Batman's the only reason any of us made it out of this mess. I just walked right into a trap.

"He's gone. Meet me at the Batmobile."

"I've got to go."

* * *

Batman hasn't said a word the entire drive back to the cave. My fingers are digging into the seat nervously. Now that the crisis is over, it hits me that Batman was going to bench me. He wasn't going to let Robin come out tonight, and the only reason he did is because I threatened to come no matter what. He must be pissed at me, even more than he already was about me and M'gann sneaking out to save the circus.

The Batmobile pulls to a stop inside the cave, but neither of us move.

I want to say something, to break the silence, to apologize for everything and just explain it all to him. That I've been training with Slade since I was eleven, that he's blackmailing me, that Jason and Tim and Steph and Cassie are all in danger if I don't do what he says, that I didn't tell him about the circus because Slade ordered me not to. But I know that Slade will find out if I do. He's always watching.

I want to tell him the truth more than anything I've ever wanted in my life, but if I do... I can't risk it. There's too much to lose. Batman might be pissed at me, but he won't lock me up or hurt me or go after the people I care about if I don't do what he wants.

So I don't say anything. I wait.

The silence weighs me down like an anchor.

"Robin." For the first time ever, Batman breaks the silence. My eyes raise up to meet his cowl. "What really happened at the circus?"

Batman watches me with the intensity of Superman's x-ray vision. It feels like he's looking all the way through me and I'm suddenly terrified that he's going to read my mind and figure out everything. I break his gaze, looking down at my boots. My throat feels tight and I know I have to give him an answer, but what do I say that won't give it all away?

I swallow the lump in my throat and mutter, "If you really want to know, ask Parasite."

* * *

Bruce Wayne

Metropolis Penitentiary

Tuesday, November 22nd

* * *

"Well, if it isn't the Man of Steel himself. I'm flattered, I was beginning to think you didn't care about me." The Parasite rasped, an amused grin on his disfigured face.

"We have some questions about your recent trip abroad." Superman crossed his arms over his chest. Parasite raised an eyebrow.

"We?"

Batman strode into the interrogation room, dropping the stack of files onto the table. Parasite grinned, flexing his hands against the cuffs bolted to the tabletop.

"The Batman. We've never had the pleasure, have we?"

"What was Intergang's goal for the particle collider?" Batman demanded, sitting across from him at the table.

"To see if it would work. There's a lot of potential for blackmail, Batman. Give us a billion dollars or we'll obliterate the city off the face of the Earth, that sort of thing."

"The agents who stopped you, were they-"

"The agents? Don't insult me. As if those inflated monkeys at Interpol could ever get close."

"What, so you knocked yourself out and put an inhibitor collar on before the agents arrived?"

Parasite grinned, leaning forwards as he took the bait.

"You heroes really are clueless. You want information, I'll give it to you, but I want something in return."

"No." Batman snapped.

"That's a shame, then. I guess I don't know anything after all."

Batman growled and started to rise, but Superman interrupted him.

"What do you want?" He asked, putting a hand out like he was trying to hold Batman back. Superman was overdoing it like he always did, but that never stopped villains from falling for the good-cop bad-cop act.

"Privileges. Immediate enrollment into the rehabilitation program. I'm a changed man, I've seen the error of my ways and I'm ready to start rejoining society." Parasite grinned.

"Fine. I'll speak to the warden." Superman said. "If you tell us everything you know about whoever caught you."

"It's a deal." Parasite extended his cuffed hand as much as he could. "Shake on it?"

Both Batman and Superman glared at him and he laughed.

"What are you afraid of? With this inhibitor, I couldn't eat your powers if I bit you."

"Enough. Tell us what you know. Who stopped you in Geneva?" Batman growled.

"It was those circus brats." Parasite snapped, true anger coloring his voice. "The two of them turned up out of nowhere and cut a deal with Haly in Brussels. Got in my way at every turn."

"Circus performers? You expect us to believe that?" Batman repeated, letting incredulity leech out of his words. Parasite bristled.

"Oh, they weren't just any performers. A Martian and a science experiment, a freakshow crime-fighting duo."

"A Martian? There's only one Martian on the planet." Superman lied, faking surprise.

"Guess again. Sneaky little blonde bitch but her powers, now those I wouldn't mind borrowing again."

"She can't be a Martian. We'd know if there was another one on Earth."

"Please, the taste of a Martian is unmistakable. I'm sure the Manhunter will be thrilled to know he's not alone on this rock."

"And the other one?" Batman asked, keeping his voice steady through sheer force of will that would impress even a Green Lantern.

"He's definitely human, or at least human plus."

"What do you mean?"

"Accelerated healing, boosted strength, endurance, the acrobatics, and some magnificently honed combat skills, all with an unmistakable laboratory-synthesized aftertaste. The perfect human weapon. Someone put a lot of work into making him."

The words hit like a mallet to the chest. Batman couldn't breathe. Parasite had to be lying. He couldn't be talking about Dick. Dick didn't have any powers, he wasn't a lab experiment or a weapon or…

But wouldn't that make sense? If Dick had started to develop powers, that did explain his strange behaviors. All the tells that just didn't add up, the hesitation, the obvious signs of guilt and worry.

"If you want to track them down, you're going to have to hurry. Those two are running from something, and they're crafty little bastards. I'm sure they're long gone by now."

Parasite didn't know anything, he was just guessing and making assumptions. Maybe Dick and M'gann lied to him, fed him false information on the mission to keep their covers secure. But the idea that Dick had developed powers, that there was an explanation (a really unexpected one) for all the strange behaviors, that needed further investigation. He had to know more.

But Dick wouldn't give him any answers. He'd tried that, and it ended in one shouting match after another. Would he have talked to Barbara or any of his teammates? If he did, would there be a record of it on his phone?

As soon as he'd had the thought, Batman frowned. Dick was on thin ice, but he and Miss Martian successfully apprehended a dangerous criminal, saved an entire city from complete destruction, and he'd been on his best behavior since then. Going through his phone or his laptop would be a violation of the trust that was still left between them.

There was a better way to find out what was going on with Dick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actions have consequences, even if Dick has managed to scrape by another close call. But if he really out of the woods yet? Batman is chasing a trail, and even if his theory is wrong, he's actively looking to find the truth.
> 
> It looks like we're about to find out how far Dick is willing to go to keep his secret hidden.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning:   
This chapter may contain Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major and Minor Character Deaths, and/or Gore.  
Brace yourself.

* * *

Selina Kyle

Downtown Gotham City

Thursday, December 1st

* * *

Selina didn't realize she was sweeping the crowd until she caught sight of a scruffy man with greasy hair and a jacket that was falling apart at the seams. He was at a table outside the deli right next to the heaters, eating a sandwich and scribbling in a coffee-stained notebook.

Anyone else might have missed the fact that he was perfectly positioned to see Dick Grayson through the Starbucks window across the street, where the kid was drinking coffee and working at his laptop. Dick stood up and the man tensed, his pencil scratching quickly against the paper. When Dick returned to his table with a cup of water, the man slouched again.

Selina felt rage boil inside her, then it quickly froze into an icy fury.

Nobody went after the kids.

Nobody.

"Planning something, are we?" Selina purred into the man's ear. Before he could respond, she slid into the chair across from him, picking up a menu to fan herself with in a display of threatening nonchalance. She knew exactly how to unnerve men like this. "You know, stalking children is a big no-no. Especially those kids. You know what happened to the last person who tried something with the Wayne kids? Never heard from again. Poof."

She snapped her fingers, leaning towards the man who was just starting to get over his surprise. He was even shabbier up close. It wasn't just the jacket that was falling apart; his shoes were full of holes and rough patch jobs, and he had uneven stubble growing down his face and neck. There was a sickly yellow-tint to his skin that suggested a multitude of liver problems.

A broke, sick, desperate alcoholic. Exactly the kind of scum that would think kidnapping a billionaire's son would solve all their problems.

"Tell me why I shouldn't do that to you."

"Selina."

Selina's eyes widened in shock, before narrowing in a sudden torrent of anger. What the hell was he thinking?!

"You know, that really doesn't explain much, Bruce. Is this a sting?" She hissed, barely keeping her voice to a furious whisper instead of shouting loudly enough for the whole street to hear.

"…no."

"So, you're stalking him because…"

"He's… I can't explain it now."

"Oh, yes you can. I thought you were going to hurt him, Bruce." Selina spat his name, heart pounding with relief that the threat was fake and fury that she'd fallen for it in the first place. "Why are you following him?"

Bruce paused.

"He went on an unauthorized mission last week."

"Because that team of his never gets into any trouble?" She bit out, trying to convey what an absolute thoughtless, inconsiderate moron he was being. What the hell was he thinking? What happened that made Bruce think it was a good idea to put on a disguise and follow Dick around like a stalker?

"He took one of his teammates and the team's ship and disappeared for two days. They didn't tell anyone where they were going or what they were doing. And he missed three days of school by faking a call to the administrators that he was sick."

"Oh." Her brows dropped and she leaned back against the chair. Well that explained why he was worked up enough to do something so drastic. That didn't sound like Dick at all. She took a deep breath and decided to give Bruce the benefit of the doubt. "What was the mission?"

"Haly's circus was under investigation by Interpol. Working undercover, Robin and Miss Martian discovered that Parasite had infiltrated the group and was planning to hijack the particle accelerator in Geneva. They prevented him from unleashing a black hole and successfully apprehended him."

"So that's why he went, but why didn't he tell anyone? Why not bring more of their teammates?"

"I don't know."

"Bruce." Selina prompted. "Why are you really following him?"

Bruce hesitated.

"Something doesn't add up. Dick is hiding something and I have no idea what or why. And it's not just this. He's been acting strangely for a while, and I know that Clark and Diana are concerned. With the League's mole problem becoming more and more of a threat, it's imperative that I know."

"You could ask him." Selina pointed out.

"No. He won't tell me. He's so angry about—"

Selina's heart sank.

"—Me." She interrupted.

"Selina, no."

"No, you were right to warn me. He has no reason to trust me and I don't blame him for not wanting me around. But it's not okay that I'm getting in the way of your ability to trust each other. Bruce, you have to talk to him. He's a good kid… a really great kid. You have to trust him."

"I'm worried."

"Of course you're worried. He's your son and you love him, and you're scared that something's wrong."

Bruce didn't answer.

"How long have you been following him?"

"The whole week."

"What have you found?"

"You want to know what I've found? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. On Monday, Alfred picked him up from school at the usual time, he did his homework, then he took his bike to the food bank. He packed lunch boxes for two hours with his friend Josh, then came home at his usual time. Tuesday, he stayed after school for the Mathletes club and got a ride home from Jake Statefarm. Wednesday was the same as Monday. Today, he was supposed to get a ride home from school with Barbara but instead he walked here.

He ordered coffee and has been doing his homework for the last hour. I don't know what I was thinking. I've been treating this like an investigation, following him around and being suspicious of his every move, when all he's done is community service and homework. He's not doing anything wrong. So why am I sure that something is wrong?"

"Bruce… I think we both know what this is really about."

"Do we?" Bruce looked unmoved.

"You can't seriously expect me to believe this has nothing to do with Dick being the last stubborn holdout."

Bruce frowned. His eyes flicked down to the notepad in his hands but he didn't answer her.

"You think it's something else." Selina crossed her arms over her chest. Bruce still didn't respond. Selina fought back the wave of frustration and raised an eyebrow. "Bruce, you can tell me what's wrong. We're partners. That's the whole point of this, right?"

"I don't have enough information yet." Bruce answered. Selina didn't miss the microscopic flinch, or the flash of guilt. He really wasn't going to tell her.

"Look, do you trust him?"

"I want to trust him."

"That's not what I asked. Do you trust him or not?"

"It's not that simple."

Stupid stubborn Bat, making everything more complicated than it had to be.

"Either you trust him or you don't. You can work with either, but first you have to figure out which it is. Do you trust him?"

After a long pause, Bruce nodded stiffly.

"Yes."

"Then go talk to him. Have a real conversation, get a straight answer instead of following him around like a stalker."

Bruce sighed.

"I'm serious, Bruce. Either go talk to him, or go home."

Bruce sighed again, even more exhausted than the first. He'd been doing an awful lot of that.

"Selina, I'm sorry."

"I know you are." Selina said dryly.

"I will talk to him, I promise."

"Go. I'll see you for dinner, okay?"

"You're not coming?"

"I have a meeting in a few minutes. It's important." She pecked him on the cheek. "Tonight. Rao's. I'll wear the blue dress."

* * *

Dick Grayson

* * *

The derivative of the natural log of x is one over x, so divide everything by x and that gives three times the natural log of x plus x squared. My pencil flies over the page and with a flourish, I'm done with my calc homework.

"What the heck is that?" A woman demands as she approaches my table.

"Calculus."

"Gross." Selina scrunches up her nose, holding up two to-go cups. "I wasn't sure if you drink coffee, so I got you a hot chocolate."

My eyes flick over my empty coffee cup next to my notebooks and she shrugs at me.

"Correction; I wasn't sure how much coffee you drink in a day."

"Probably too much." I answer wryly, taking the hot chocolate while she sits down in the chair across from me. "Thanks."

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I didn't think you were going to." Selina's voice is suddenly uneasy and all of the humor is gone. I've never seen her off-balance before. Catwoman doesn't do nervous, and she's never not in control of a situation. This is new.

"I wasn't."

"Why did you change your mind?"

I take a sip of the hot chocolate, my hand absent-mindedly tapping my pencil against the table.

"Look, I don't trust you. At all. But… I'm not blind. I know that for whatever reason, it's really hurting Bruce that I don't want you to move in. Selina, the only thing I want is for Bruce to be happy."

"I do too. He deserves it." Selina took a deep breath. "And you do too. I know you're dealing with a lot right now, Dick, and I respect that you don't trust me. I really do. But Bruce is really worried about you and I don't want to be just another problem you have to deal with."

At least she's self-aware.

"All I want you to know is that I admit what I did as Catwoman was wrong, and that I don't steal anymore. I haven't taken anything of value in over two years, and everything I've done in that time has just been about keeping up appearances. I'm done being a thief."

"That doesn't just erase everything you've ever done!"

"No. But I have spent a lot of time returning stolen works to their rightful owners and I am working on reparations for the people I've stolen from. I'm going clean."

"I thought you said you already had."

"Not like that. I took a job as a security consultant for the GMA."

"I know. Bruce told me."

"As Catwoman."

"What?" I blink. Hard.

"Dr. Mathers approached Catwoman directly… and I accepted. I'm not just going to be keeping the art safe, I'm going to help the museum and… the…" she shakes her head like she can't quite believe the words coming out of her mouth, "the police… to bait and catch would-be art thieves."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Can't quite believe it myself, but it's a step I need to take."

"Are you really serious?"

"I am."

"You're giving up being Catwoman to date Bruce?"

"No. I'm giving up Catwoman because I can't keep justifying to myself what I do. It was never supposed to be about hurting people and I realized that I was lying to myself the whole time. I can't be that person anymore. Dating Bruce… it is a benefit, I won't lie to you, but those are two separate decisions. I really care about him."

She really does. She looks so nervous and it really hits me that she actually won't go any further with Bruce if I'm not okay with it. That even if he's angry at me for it, Bruce won't either.

They genuinely care about each other. How can I stand in the way of that?

"You know that if you do anything to hurt him, I will hunt you down."

"I'd expect nothing less, Boy Wonder."

My stomach twists into a painful knot with a nice stab of guilt for good measure. I meant what I told her; all I want is for Bruce to be happy. He's going to find out about Slade someday. I'm not stupid. I know this can't go on forever, and now that Batman knows something is wrong, it's only a matter of time. He's never going to be able to forgive me for it when he does find out.

At least I can give him this.

"Fine. Go ahead and convince me why I should agree to you moving in."

* * *

Bruce Wayne

The Watchtower

* * *

"Canary."

"Bruce. I'm sorry to call you in but we need to talk."

"Is this personal or professional?"

"Both? I'm not sure."

Batman strode over to the room's controls and typed in a code. The shades dropped and a light over the doorframe lit up.

"The room is secure." He pulled back his cowl and sat.

"Have you… notice anything strange going on with Dick lately?"

Bruce stiffened.

"Hear me out. Please."

"I'm listening."

"He's been acting strangely and there's a lot of little things that keep not adding up. He seems so on-edge all the time, and then there's the fact that he doesn't seem to notice that his combat skills exceed all of his teammates. And I mean, far exceed. He took down Superboy in unarmed combat. It wasn't close. In the field, when he hits someone, they stay down."

Bruce frowned. Robin had taken down six burglars in a matter of seconds in between hunting the Riddler, and from their confessions, none of them even saw him move.

"Bruce, he's a great kid, he really is. But he's dangerous and he's in a bad place right now. Normally, maybe I wouldn't have worried about it but I don't know what's causing it. The rest of his teammates, I understand why they're feeling the way they are. Kaldur misses Atlantis and he still second guesses his leadership abilities. Wally just took on a lot of new responsibilities, the least of which is a new school…" Dinah trailed off, letting the silence between them amplify her pointed stare. "Artemis is struggling with her identity, Conner still believes he has to live up to Superman, M'gann is so uncertain about her place here on Earth, and Zatanna just lost her father. These kids have been through a lot and I'm trying to do everything I can to help them but I have no idea what to think about Dick. What's going on with him? And don't tell me you haven't noticed anything."

Bruce sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"I may know what's going on."

"You do?"

"I asked the kids if they would be alright with Selina moving in."

Dinah stared.

"Dick… wasn't thrilled with the idea."

There was silence, and after a minute Dinah shook her head.

"I feel awful saying this but I'm glad to hear that. That there's a reason, I mean. Obviously, I appreciate that this situation is hard for both of you, but… that makes… a lot of sense."

Bruce felt a wave of relief pour through him. Dinah knew the Team better than anyone else on the League, and she was the best choice to figure out this mystery. Bruce meant what he told Selina; he trusted Dick. If something was really wrong, if Dick was having mental health issues or problems with his friends or… or spontaneously developing superpowers, he would tell Bruce. Parasite wasn't a reliable source. This was the time to gather information and make rational decisions, not jump to absurd conclusions based on the story of a manipulative villain.

"Have you talked to him?"

"What?"

"Have you said anything to each other regarding Selina since then?"

"..."

"Has he told you why he doesn't he want Selina to move in?"

"Not exactly. We've been… at odds"

"When you say at odds… what do you mean by that?"

"I expressed unhappiness with his decision to assign himself a mission in Europe, and he responded by loudly insinuating that I am a control freak."

Dinah facepalmed.

"You've just been yelling at each other since then?"

"We called a truce after he assisted in stopping the Riddler."

"And have you told him why you want Selina to move in so badly?"

"I've tried to explain the situation to him but he won't listen."

"Bruce. You're upset—"

"I am not upset."

"You're irritated that Dick won't listen to you, but you're not listening to him, either. He may very well have reasons that he doesn't want his adoptive father dating anyone, let alone a woman that he's spent a good number of years fighting. You need to talk to each other and really hear each other out."

"Dinah, he won't listen to me."

"So, you need to listen to him first. Whatever arrangement you and Selina have worked out, you're both adults. Dick is a child and it's your job to care for him, not the other way around. And I know you're upset that he went to save the circus without telling you, but you know very well what they mean to him. It's not that different than when they went to Cadmus against direct orders, and they saved a lot of lives by stopping Parasite."

"So what do I do?"

"Go talk to him. Hear him out. Explain to him why you're upset about Haly's but acknowledge that you would've done the exact same thing."

Bruce hesitated. Dinah let out a long breath.

"Just try talking to him and see where that gets you."

* * *

Wayne Manor

* * *

"Dick, is now a good time?"

"I was just coming to talk to you."

"I wanted to apologize. The way I've been acting isn't acceptable and I want you to know that I respect your comfort and if you don't—"

"I talked to Selina. We worked something out." Dick interrupted.

"What?"

"She can move in."

Bruce stared. That was not what he'd been expecting to hear.

"Dick, I'm sorry that I have been treating you harshly and I'm sorry that I hurt you by asking Selina to move in. I want you to know that you come first, and if you're not happy with it, it's alright. She doesn't have to move in and you don't have to agree to anything you aren't okay with."

"Bruce, it's okay. We talked for a long time, and I really am okay with it. She makes you happy and that's all I want."

"I'm not going to compromise your well-being over her. If this is the reason you've been acting out—"

"I haven't been—" Dick started to shout, but cut himself off. He sat on the couch under the oil painting of Gotham Harbor and continued in a normal voice, "Not everything is about Selina, okay? Maybe I'm stressed right now, but I'm tired of us being mad at each other. I really am okay with Selina moving in. You just told me at a bad time. Now can we stop fighting?"

Bruce sat on the couch next to him. For a while, neither of them said anything.

"Why didn't you tell me about the circus? I would've helped."

"I know. I just… I needed to take care of it myself. It was important."

Bruce sighed heavily.

"I don't know what I'm doing, Dick. I'm trying my best but I'm not perfect. I don't know everything, I don't have all the answers, and I don't know what's happening. I just that something is going wrong. You know that I trust you and I do understand why you made the choices you made, even if I'm not delighted that you didn't tell me. I'm so sorry that everything with Selina and all the fallout hurt you the way it did. That was never my intention."

"Yeah, I know."

"You know you can tell me things. If something's wrong."

Dick gave a stiff nod, leaning back even further into the couch. Bruce hesitated, then decided to take the risk.

"I know it can be overwhelming, especially when your body starts changing—"

Dick bolted up.

"Whoa, whoa, hang on, Bruce! We went over the Talk in Health class, I'm good."

So much for Parasite's theory. Dick sensed that Bruce was willing to let the subject drop, so he patted him on the shoulder once.

"Good talk, have fun at dinner, I'm gonna go not think about birds and bees."

* * *

Dick Grayson

The Batcave

Saturday, December 3rd

* * *

"Aqualad is off duty at the moment." Batman says a few days later, when I'm sitting at the Batcomputer running diagnostic scans on the facial recognition software. He's been trying so hard to make nice, but his timing is awful. Turns out missing three days of school means about fifteen hours of extra homework, plus studying for a test I missed. I meant to finish debugging the software last week and now it's taking way longer than I thought.

"Okay…" I don't look up.

"There's a mission I think you would be suited to lead."

"I'm really busy."

"Robin, this is a good opportunity for you. If you want to be team leader someday, you'll need to get experience."

Team leader? My hands slide off the keyboard. I can't be team leader.

"I don't want it."

"What don't you want?"

"I don't want to be team leader. Not after that simulation."

I regret saying it when Batman flinches back at the reminder, but it's true. And after Hizer and the circus and Red Arrow's promise to hunt down the mole, I'm not giving Slade anything else.

"I sent my friends to their deaths. When I made those calls, none of my team made it out alive."

"It was a failure simulation. You made the best decisions you could in that situation. But you know it wasn't real, and at some point, you'll have to move forwards."

"I know! Batman, it's not just because of the simulation! I'm not going on the mission."

Batman stares at me without saying anything. Then he shakes his head and turns, heading for the elevator up to the manor, leaving me to brood.

* * *

_The following call was selected at random to be recorded for quality control purposes. The content of the call will not be disclosed, and all data will be discarded after sound quality and background noise levels have been tested and analyzed by our state-of-the-art software. For information about Virezon's call quality standards and testing methods, please call our customer support desk._

_Call Connects_

Speaker 1: This is Wilson.

Speaker 2: I've got a job for you.

Speaker 1: It's been a while, Lex. How's Metropolis holding up under the onslaught of that alien menace?

Speaker 2: Cut the shit Wilson.

Speaker 1: Bad day?

Speaker 2: I need you to knock the brats down a peg. Rough them up, scare them, whatever you have to do short of ending their miserable lives, I don't care.

Speaker 1: I suppose I should know who you're referring to?

Speaker 2: The Justice League put all their sidekicks on a team and they've gotten in the way one too many times with their recent stunt in Bialya. After your close call with the League, I thought you might appreciate a chance for some payback.

Speaker 1: I won't deny that. What do you want me to do?

Speaker 2: Bring them in, alive. They've run around unchecked for long enough, we need to get them under control.

Speaker 1: This team of brats wouldn't have anything to do with your escaped Cadmus project, would it? If so, I'll need some specialized equipment.

Speaker 2: You'll have it. Luckily for you, I've just acquired a sword with a rather high concentration of kryptonite. It'll be delivered to the usual dropoff.

Speaker 1: Excellent. While I have you, any idea why Red Arrow has been looking for information on my whereabouts?

Speaker 2: From what my sources tell me, he's doing a favor for the Flash brat. He and that scarlet idiot made a bet over a cold case.

Speaker 1: Which one?

Speaker 2: It's all heresay, of course, but I understand it's the murder of a small-time Rogue.

Speaker 1: Is it now? Lex, always a pleasure.

_End of Call_

_This recording will be deleted from all databases once quality testing is completed or one week after the current date. _

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**Item #: **867945983

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* * *

Bruce Wayne

Mount Justice

Sunday, December 4th

* * *

"There have been reports of suspicious activity at the S.T.A.R. Labs in New York City. We have no reason to believe there are any projects that are particularly attractive to potential thieves, but we've been asked to investigate as a favor to the CEO, Dr. Harrison Wells. Details were not forthcoming regarding the kinds of suspicious activity, but we've confirmed unauthorized entrances to the facility along with tampered security systems. Your job is to investigate and report back so we can confirm that the building is, in fact, secure."

Batman heard Kid Flash scoff.

"Easy missions again, I thought we were past that."

"Or they just want to take it easy on Zee," Artemis muttered, throwing an arm around Zatanna's shoulders.

"I don't need to be coddled." Zatanna protested, but let Artemis drag her onto the ship anyways. Miss Martian and Superboy trailed in behind them. Batman met Robin's eye for a brief second before he turned sharply and disappeared into the ship.

"Good luck." He said to Aqualad, meaning the words for someone else.

* * *

Dick Grayson

S.T.A.R. Labs

* * *

"We split up. The building has eighteen quadrants, we'll need to cover as many of them as possible. If you locate the intruder, alert us to your location. Do not engage them alone. Wait for backup. Understood?"

The team nodded.

"Good. Artemis, Superboy, you're on the western half. Quadrants one through nine. Zatanna, Kid Flash, with me in the eastern half. Miss Martian, do a flyover and looks for possible entry points. Robin, find the tech center and see what information you can find from the servers." Aqualad instructs.

"Right."

Making my way down to the basement is easy, especially with the building's schematics at my fingertips. I look down at my holocomputer to check the security cameras and suddenly I'm not feeling the aster. On the mini-screens, my teammates move through the complex, but where I'm standing there's only an empty hallway. I move towards the doorway that I just came through and when I turn the corner, the image appears on the security cameras like it should. There I am. But the second I move back I disappear again.

Shit.

The cameras in this hallway are on a loop. Guess I found the intruder.

I try the door to the server room and like I expected, it's locked. There's a keypad next to the door and I plug my computer into it, waiting for my virus to hack the lock. A few seconds later, there's an ominous click as the electronic lock disengages. I push the door open, bringing my hand up to my ear-piece. I walk through the banks of computer servers, trying to see through the dim blue lighting. There's someone in here. I can feel them watching me.

'_There's an intruder in the server room,'_ I tell my team over the mind-link when I make out the shadowy figure standing at the far end the room.

'_We'll rendezvous at your location_,' Aqualad responds immediately.

The figure turns and suddenly the world freezes. My foot hits one of the servers and I wince at the clanging sound that vibrates through the room. I watch, paralyzed from shock as the figure moves closer.

_'Slade.'_

My breath catches in my throat and I scramble backwards, trying to get to the door but I misstep and my back hits the wall. He steps into the light and my stomach drops through the floor at the sight of the black and orange mask. I've never faced Deathstroke the Terminator before, not like this. I have to get out of here. It's not too late to get away from whatever Slade's planning right now.

"Well, well. You brats really do love to get in the way. Fortunately, I was expecting to run into you." His voice is low and threatening, no hint of acknowledgement or recognition.

"Robin, come in!" Aqualad demands over the comm link that I forgot was still in my ear. My head feels strangely silent and I realize the mind link is gone. I bring my hand up to my ear to answer Aqualad, but Slade moves. In a split second, he closes the distance between us and grabs my wrist.

I jerk back, twisting out of his grip before his hand closes and diving out of the way. My grappling gun pulls me to the top of one of the servers and I leap across the rows, flipping to give myself more height. I sprint across the tops of the units, heading for the door on the far side of the room. Something slams into my stomach and knocks me backwards off the server as a dense cloud erupts. Smoke fills my eyes and lungs and covers the lenses of my mask. Half-blind and coughing through the smoke, I manage to roll when I hit the ground. It's not the smoothest move I've ever done, but it gets me on my feet.

The filter in my mask activates, clearing my vision enough that I can make out Slade's form. The smoke screen becomes an advantage, and I launch two birdarangs in quick succession before aiming a side-kick at his chest. His arm shoots up, blocking the kick and catching my leg in a vice-like grip like he's done so many times before. Before he can throw me across the room, I twist my body around and slam my left leg into the side of his head. He lets go of my leg and staggers backwards. I land hard enough to make my knees protest, but before I can run, Slade's leg shoots around in a spinning hook-kick and I duck. His leg misses my head by less than an inch.

I kick at his knees but he somehow manages to move away and I have to roll to regain my balance. The second I stand up, I have to block a punch aimed at my solar plexus. I side-step an uppercut and block a strike to my diaphragm.

He leaves a tiny opening and I take it, lunging to the right and punching his left side where I know his armor is slightly thinner. The blow lands and Slade lets out a grunt of pain, but it comes at a price. His hand catches my cape. With one motion, he slams me against the wall so hard the air flies out of my lungs. I gasp for air while the world spins, and I can't stop him from pulling the com link out of my ear. He crushes the device between his fingers, letting the pieces fall to the ground.

"We don't need you bringing the rest of your friends in just yet."

"What do you want?!" I rasp, struggling against his grip. I try to kick him, but he brings his foot down on top of mine, pinning them both against the wall. It doesn't hurt, but it's uncomfortable with my wrists pinned over my head and I hate not being able to move.

"Answers."

"You dragged us all the way out to S.T.A.R. labs for that? What, was Google not working?"

Slade snorts, and his whole demeanor changes. The clinical professionalism slips away, and even with the masks between us it feels familiar again. That shouldn't make me feel better, it really shouldn't, but I know how to deal with this.

"How was Geneva?" Slade asks conversationally.

"So we know each other now?" I spit, pulling on the grip to try and get loose. My breathing is finally back under control but there's about ten million places I'd rather be right now.

"I can beat answers out of you if you'd prefer." He offers, tightening his grip on my wrists until my bones start to pop.

"Stop! Okay, I get it!" The grip loosens. "Your intel was right, we caught Parasite trying to frame the circus for stealing the parts for a particle collider."

"I trust you dealt with him without any… complications?"

"He didn't know it was me if that's what you're asking. Or Renegade." I add in a low hiss.

"Did anything else of note happen in Europe while I was away?"

What?

"Is this a current events pop-quiz?" I ask.

"I'm sure you know what event I'm asking about."

Shit. What's he talking about? Crap, was there some hidden assignment I missed? He told me to take a day off to go to Starbucks, was that code for something? What happened in Europe last week?

"Uh, the German Prime Minister offered to host the G7 summit." I say. "Scotland tried and failed to secede from Great Britain. Italy banned putting ice in soft drinks. Slade, I don't know. Did I miss something?"

"I had an interesting run-in while I was in Lisbon."

Lisbon? What happened there?

"Wait, the bombing in Lisbon? That was you?!"

"It was, although I think you'll find something else even more interesting."

"You blew up a national landmark!" I retort. Slade squeezes my wrists again in warning.

"And I had a very close encounter with the Justice League."

I freeze.

"What?"

"Now the interesting thing is, I've worked a lot of jobs overseas before and I've never had the Justice League attempt to interrupt any of them. That got me thinking there was something different this time. You see, Robin…" He pauses on my name, and dread pools in my stomach when I realize what he's saying. "There was only one person that knew I would be in Lisbon last week."

"No! I didn't do it! I didn't even know you were going to be in Lisbon! And I haven't told anyone anything! It wasn't me! Slade I swear, it wasn't me!"

Slade lets out an amused huff of air.

"As a matter of fact, I was going to say Damien Moreau, but I'm glad to know you're still trustworthy."

"Is that all you wanted to know?! I didn't do it, Slade, now let me go!"

"Oh, we're not quite done. It turns out, the League's presence was sheer dumb luck. I've heard they excel at that. Apparently Kid Flash happened upon my location via satellite feed."

Wally sent the League after Slade?!

"How did he find out… I mean, where you were?"

"It appears to have been an accidental discovery. I believe you, that you truly had nothing to do with it. I must confess, I wasn't sure. That's a part of why I agreed to this job."

"What job?"

"The one I was hired to do, of course." Slade responds. We hear the rumble at the same time and I can almost hear him grin under the mask. "Ah, right on cue."

"What job?! What are you doing?!" I shout, but Slade's fingers tighten around my throat and cut off my oxygen supply completely.

"Don't worry. Your friends will be fine."

NO!

I writhe and try to get free but I can't move. Black spots appear in my vision and my lungs burn and he's not letting go and I'm clawing and writhing and everything is going dark and I can't get any air and...

Everything goes dark.

* * *

Wally West

* * *

'_The intruder's in the server room,'_ Robin said.

'_We'll rendezvous at your location_,' Aqualad responded, nodding at Wally and Zatanna. The three of them started moving towards the server room.

'_Sla-' _Robin's mental voice cut off halfway through in a panic.

'_Robin? Robin!' _Aqualad demanded.

'_I can't reach him!' _Miss Martian cried. Wally frowned, his stomach tightening nervously.

"Robin, come in!" Aqualad shouted into the com link. The seconds of silence that answered were the longest of Wally's life. "Kid, go find him. Zatanna and I will be behind you."

"Right." Wally nodded, lowering his goggles. He turned and sped down the hallway, desperately hoping Robin wasn't really in danger and that the whole thing was a misunderstanding. Just because Robin had gone quiet didn't have to mean anything bad was happening.

Why did this place have to be such a maze?! Every second it took for him to navigate the building was another second that Robin was in danger. It took him barely three minutes to get across the entire building and figure out where the entrance to the server room was, but it was the longest three minutes of Wally's life.

He threw open the door to the server room and ran into his worst nightmare. The intruder was there alright, pinning a struggling Robin to the wall by his neck.

"Let him go!" He shouted, just as Robin slumped over unconscious and the figure let him drop to the floor. Dread and terror fought against each other until he saw that Rob's chest was moving up and down. He was still breathing. He wasn't too late.

"You must be the Flash's brat. The Boy Wonder and I were just discussing you. You've made quite a lot of problems for me recently."

Wally tore his eyes off Robin to look at the assailant and his heart stopped. Black and orange tactical gear, broadswords crossed on his back, and the signature black-and-orange mask, Wally had spent way too much time looking for the man in front of him not to recognize him.

"Deathstroke."

"Kid Flash. It's time we talked."

Wally balled his hands into fists.

"Get away from Robin."

"I don't think I will." Deathstroke pulled a pistol out of its holster and pointed it at Robin's head. Wally froze and Deathstroke chuckled. "So you two are close. You take a single step and I blast his brains out. Even your mentor isn't fast enough to stop me at that distance, and you're no Flash."

Wally growled, resisting the urge to call the mercenary's bluff. Deathstroke was blackmailing Dick. He wouldn't kill him, no matter what he threatened to do. But Wally couldn't say anything without revealing that he knew about the whole thing. And from what Dick's note said, the only thing keeping Deathstroke from taking Dick away forever was the promise that he would never let anyone find out. Wally had to play dumb long enough for the team to get there, to make sure Deathstroke never found out Robin had broken their twisted deal.

"You want to talk? Fine. Let's talk. But let him go."

"Why the recent interest in me?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't play stupid. You sent the League after me in Lisbon after making Red Arrow do all the work tracking me down."

"I wasn't looking for you! That was an accident!"

"Deny it all you like, but I have my sources. I know you alerted the League to my whereabouts and cost me quite a large paycheck. So tell me, why were you looking?"

"I wasn't!"

Deathstroke clicked back the safety on his gun. Wally felt his stomach freeze.

"You have one more chance to tell me the truth, or your little birdie here never wakes up."

"No! Don't hurt him!"

"Well?"

"You're the most likely suspect for a cold case I've been working! Red Arrow has been helping me find leads because I got stuck!"

"How interesting. What case would that be?"

Wally swallowed.

"Marcus Aurelius, he called himself the Roman Executioner! He was shot outside a dive bar in Central four years ago."

"Never heard of him."

"Red Arrow told me you weren't the right perp and I didn't listen. I caught the lead that you were in Portugal and I told the League. It wasn't personal! I swear!"

Silence hung in the room like a shroud. For every second that the mercenary didn't answer him, Wally's pulse sped up and his throat got tighter until he was literally vibrating in place and couldn't feel the tips of his fingers or toes.

Finally, Deathstroke inclined his head.

"I believe you. It wasn't personal." Wally let out a breath as the world started moving again. "And in return, neither is this."

That was the only warning Wally got before Deathstroke fired.

"NOOOO‼‼‼‼‼‼"

The sound of the gunshot cracked through the room as he sped desperately towards his best friend. It was sheer panic and terror that blinded him, fear for his best friend overriding the fact that the barrel of the gun was turning. He didn't realize what it meant until the bullet hit him, shattering bone and eviscerating muscle and spraying blood onto the floor and the servers behind him.

Wally screamed as the world exploded into agony.


	29. Chapter 29

Wally West

S.T.A.R. Labs

Sunday, December 4th, 2012

* * *

"I believe you. It wasn't personal. And in return… neither is this."

That was the only warning Wally got before Deathstroke fired.

"No!" He screamed as the gunshot cracked through the room. The sound reached him first as he sped towards his friend. The bullet reached him only a picosecond after he realized where Deathstroke was aiming.

The bullet slammed through his ankle, ripping through his uniform and shattering bones and tearing muscle and spraying blood as it burst out the other side. Wally screamed as his leg gave out and the pain exploded through him in waves of agony. It was pain like he'd never felt in his life. He didn't even know if his foot was still attached to his leg.

Deathstroke moved towards him and Wally desperately tried to pull himself away, but the mercenary put a firm boot on his good leg. A new wave of pain ripped another scream from Wally's throat.

"Ah-ah-ah. With your healing factor, the bones will be healed to a clean fracture within the week. Give it a month or so of rest, you'll be back to normal. Provided, of course, you don't put any undue stress on it." Deathstroke pressed harder on Wally's good leg and through the haze of agony, he realized how royally screwed he was. "Your teammates will be here soon and I'll give them their own parting gifts, but until then I need your undivided attention. Can you do that?"

Wally gritted his teeth as hard as he could and nodded once, eyes squeezed shut in pain.

"Good boy." The boot lifted off his leg and there were footsteps as Deathstroke approached him. Wally pried his eyes open to see the black and orange mask inches away from his face like a creature straight out of his worst nightmares. "You're going to stay out of my way. Do you understand?"

"Screw you." He ground out, tears leaking down his face from the sheer fire pouring out of his bleeding leg. He braced himself for a new wave of pain, but instead, Deathstroke just laughed. The sound sunk through the layers of pain, terror and dread pooling in his stomach.

"Putting on a brave face, aren't you, Wally?" Deathstroke's voice was quiet but his face was inches from Wally's ear, making it impossible not to hear. The words hit him like a punch in the stomach. His mouth opened and closed but no sound came out. "That's what I thought. After everything Robin has given up to protect you all, it would be a shame to put that sacrifice to waste. No matter how subtle or secretive you think you're being, I promise you that I will find out. And when I do, you won't get away with such a clean injury. In fact, you won't get away at all."

Wally's breath hitched in his chest and the surging heartbeat made the gunshot wound pulse with agony. He groaned, grabbing Deathstroke's arm defensively as the mercenary pulled him up by the front of his uniform.

"Maybe we'll cross paths again. That's fair game for our line of work. But just remember; you don't have what it takes to really come after me. I prefer not to hurt children, but you'll find that I am more than capable of doing so if necessary. Do you understand?"

Wally tried to answer, but the world was getting fuzzier while the pain just kept getting worse and worse.

"I asked you a question." Deathstroke repeated coldly. There was a click and something cold pressed against his temple.

"-yes! Please, yes, I won't- I" Wally forced out desperately, the surge of terrified adrenaline giving him the strength to answer. Deathstroke dropped him suddenly and his head slammed into the floor. Stars erupted in front of his eyes. The ground spun beneath him. And the whole time, his leg burned like it was being bitten by ten-million fire ants.

"Just remember, I am always watching." Deathstroke's voice sounded a million miles away. "But for now, your teammates should be here any second. I'll leave you to them."

"Don't hurt them, please, please I won't—please…"

Deathstroke was gone, leaving behind no answer. Wally forced his eyes to focus on the spot he'd last seen the black and orange mask, but by the time he could see straight, the room was empty. Deathstroke was gone.

No. Not gone.

Hiding.

Waiting.

Hunting.

* * *

Superboy

S.T.A.R. Labs

* * *

Superboy heard the gunshot first. But everyone felt Kid Flash scream over the mindlink.

"No!" Artemis shouted, sprinting down the hall.

"Artemis, wait!" Miss Martian held a hand out.

"There's no time! Find them!" Aqualad thundered. "I'm alerting the League!"

Superboy made it to the server room on Artemis' heels, bursting through the door to see scene straight out of the Failsafe. He froze at the sight of Zatanna hovering over Kid Flash's body, frantically casting spells to stop the blood spilling out of his leg. He'd been wrong before. This wasn't anything like the Failsafe; there was so much more blood than there'd been then. Kid Flash was a pale body in a pool of crimson, the bone sticking out of his leg was stark white against the deep red. Nausea built in Superboy's stomach and he had to look away. Robin was on the ground too, slumped against the wall but he didn't look hurt. Just unconscious. There was no sign of their attacker.

"Laeh mih‼‼‼‼‼‼ Pots eht gnideelb! Come on, work faster please! Pots eht gnideelb!" Zatanna chanted, all frantic desperation and terror.

"Aqualad to the Justice League. Kid Flash is hurt. The team is evacuating now but we may need assistance." Aqualad's voice didn't shake. Superboy couldn't even get a sound out.

"Acknowledged." Red Tornado answered over the com. "Backup is on the way. I recommend extreme caution."

"Where's the intruder?" Aqualad asked Artemis.

"Who cares?! Aqualad, we have to get him to a hospital NOW!"

"Artemis, you must remain calm. The League is on their way."

"It's working!" Zatanna cried.

Miss Martian knelt down next to Robin, placing two fingers on his throat.

"Robin's breathing is normal. No sign of any injuries. He's okay." She breathed. Even with his super hearing, Superboy could barely hear her.

"Trap… it's a trap… you have to… trap…" Wally muttered weakly. Superboy's head snapped up, finally breaking out of his trance as he whirled around, scanning the empty room for any signs of danger. Kid Flash's heartbeat was much slower than it should have been but he was alive. Robin's heartbeat was normal. Artemis, Miss Martian, Zatanna, Aqualad, all accounted for. Eight heartbeats.

Except there were only seven of them.

"We have to get them out of here." Over the mind-link he added, '_It's a trap. The intruder's watching us.'_

'_Where?'_ Aqualad asked.

'_I don't know.'_

'_Be on your guard, everyone.' _Out loud, Aqualad asked, "Zatanna, how is he?"

"I stopped the bleeding, but he's going into shock. He needs a doctor." Zatanna's voice trembled, held together by a sheer force of will.

"Can he be moved?"

"Carefully."

Aqualad nodded solemnly.

"Superboy, you carry Kid Flash. I will take Robin."

"I've got him." Miss Martian protested, wrapping Robin's arm around her shoulder before easily picking him up and climbing to her feet. "I can still use my telekinesis while carrying him, and you can give us better cover."

"Very well."

Being careful to support Kid Flash's injured leg without putting pressure on it, Superboy picked up his teammate. The speedster was pale to begin with but now his face was ashen and his freckles stood out against the stark white skin. His chest was rising and falling in shallow motions.

"Artemis, Zatanna, take the front. I'll cover from behind. Everyone, stay alert." Aqualad ordered, igniting his water-bearers into matching blades. Zatanna stepped in front of Superboy as Artemis notched an arrow. Before they could take a step, Superboy heard movement.

'_There!'_

The team followed his gaze, looking down the long corridor of servers, cables and blinking lights.

"Not a bad formation at all." A low voice emerged from the darkness and echoed off the walls, bouncing back at them until Superboy couldn't tell where it was coming from. "The most vulnerable protected on all sides, an archer for range, a shield for defense against a frontal assault. It's well-planned."

A man stepped out from a row of servers in unhurried steps. He wore a black and orange uniform and matching mask, with swords on his back and guns in at least two pairs of holsters that Superboy could see. Miss Martian gasped, fear written across her face for a second before her eyes narrowed into steel. Superboy readjusted his hold on Kid Flash to angle him away from the villain.

"Unfortunately, it doesn't cover you being outmatched."

"Deathstroke." Artemis glared, tightening her grip on her bow.

"I've heard a lot about you brats and how you keep getting in the way. I'd hoped you'd be more of a challenge but I must say, I'm not impressed. At least the bird boy put up a fight."

The team bristled.

"What do you want?!" Artemis snapped, aiming her bow at the center of the mercenary's chest. Next to her, Zatanna's hands tightened into fists.

"To get paid. I appreciate you stabilizing him, it makes my job much easier."

"We do not have time for your monologuing." Aqualad cut off whatever Artemis was about to retort. His tattoos glowed as his water-bearers reformed into a sword and shield. "I believe we will be better suited by taking you down."

'_Artemis, Zatanna, with me. We will hold him off. Miss Martian, Superboy, get them out of here!'_ Aqualad ordered over the mind-link and he charged Deathstroke.

'_This way!'_ Miss Martian said, shifting her grip on Robin. Superboy didn't waste a second following her, not even as the sounds of battle erupted behind them. Zatanna's shouts, arrows whistling through the air, and Aqualad's water-bearers swinging. On top of the chaos, all three of their teammates were breathing heavily and fighting as hard as they could. Trying his best not to jostle Kid Flash, Superboy followed Miss Martian. As they reached the door, it slid open on its own. For about a second, Superboy thought she had opened it with telekinesis. But on the other side were a half-dozen thugs wearing gas masks. All of them were carrying cannisters.

'_Six hostiles incoming! Don't breathe the gas!'_ Superboy warned. Miss Martian held out a hand and a telekinetic wave blasted the row of henchmen back, giving her and Superboy enough time to run by. She turned back towards the where Deathstroke was easily fending off their three teammates and stopped. _'M'gann, come on!'_

'_We can't just leave them there!'_

'_We have to get Kid Flash to a hospital NOW! We'll come back for them.'_

They didn't have a choice. Kid Flash didn't have the luxury of wasting any time.

'_You're right.'_

The two of them ran down the halls, heading for the exit. Kid Flash's heartbeat was still slowing, even with the healing Zatanna had done. He was going into shock. They didn't have time to go back for the rest of their teammates. Superboy picked up the pace, grimly deciding Miss Martian didn't need to know that the sounds of battle were fading behind them. There was nothing they could do now. Their teammates would be fine. They had to be.

The night air was cool and damp on Superboy's face, and the faint glimmer of the disguised bioship was the most beautiful thing he could almost see. They could give Kid Flash a transfusion, get him to a hospital, alert the League, and come back for their teammates. Everything was going to be okay.

At least, it was going to be okay until a fireball erupted in the grass less than a foot from Miss Martian. Wet grass shouldn't have been flammable, but the accelerant turned the field into an inferno. Miss Martian cried out as the flames consumed her. She staggered, fighting to stay on her feet but it was a losing battle. Robin hit the ground hard, unaware of the ring of fire surrounding them.

"M'gann‼" Superboy roared.

Barely pausing long enough to gently lay Kid Flash down on the grass, Superboy charged forwards. The seconds it took to reach her felt like an eternity. He slung Robin over his shoulder and dragged M'gann back out of the blaze. This had to be another nightmare scenario. A Failsafe. A simulation. This couldn't be real. Kid Flash had been shot, Robin was unconscious, M'gann could've died, and their other teammates had been captured already. A wall of fire stood between them and the bioship. Superboy would have been able to jump it alone, but carrying three people? One of which had been shot?

"You can make this a lot easier for both of us." Deathstroke appeared out of the darkness. The inferno illuminated his mask, making the metal glitter in the darkness like a demon from the depths of hell. Superboy risked the time to look behind him and check the distance between them, the bioship, and the still-raging fire separating them. M'gann reached up weakly.

'_Help me… up, I'm… I'm okay, I can… sti…' _she managed to say before passing out mid-word. Superboy laid her down gently on the grass next to Kid Flash and turned back to Deathstroke, keeping himself firmly between his friends and the mercenary.

"No chance."

"I hoped you'd say that. You know, I was told to bring you brats in alive…" Deathstroke drew his sword. The metal scraped against its holder, echoing over the sound of the crackling fire behind them. "…but they never said how many pieces."

Deathstroke charged. With a scream, Superboy ran forward to meet him. Deathstroke swung the sword out and Superboy raised his arm to block the harmless steel. But before the blade even touched him, he knew he'd made a mistake. The sword felt wrong. It felt sick. Or maybe Superboy was the one who felt sick. As the blade got closer, he was burning up and freezing at the same time, and cramps erupted through his whole body, like every cell of his being was trying to curl in on itself.

The sword was dangerous. It was hurting him. It was…

"…kryptonite."

Superboy tried to pull back, but it was too late. The blade connected with his arm, slicing through skin with a fiery pain unlike anything he had ever known. Deathstroke somehow pulled the blade back, slicing fast so the cut was long and shallow and burned like hell. Superboy shouted in pain, but it was too late to get out of the way. The next cut was across his side, catching him even as he tried to stumble back. His arm burned, then his chest, and then it was a fight for survival. Superboy struck out, blinded by the pain, trying to defend against an attacker who could exploit his biggest weakness.

Before he knew what happened, Superboy hit the ground, back flat against the grass. Deathstroke's boot landed on the center of his chest, pinning him down with the tip of the sword under his throat. Superboy's body shook from the pain and every way he moved made the burn from the sword even worse. This couldn't be happening. He had to keep fighting.

"Take them to the ship. Get the Flash brat to medical. If you cost me his bounty, I will take every single cent out on you and your men." Deathstroke ordered. "And as for you…"

The boot was replaced with a knee on his diaphragm and the tip of the sword turned away. Before he could move, the flat side of the blade was pressed firmly against his neck. Superboy screamed. The edges of his vision were fading to gray as the color leeched out of the world. He was bleeding and his heart was racing and it was impossible to breathe. He'd seen what fire could do; a burned-out shell of a building, the scorched, dead earth that had once been vibrant green, or the smell of smoke as flakes of ash drifted down from the sky.

But for the first time, with the length of Kryptonite digging into the skin under his chin, Superboy understood what it felt like to burn.

"Go to sleep."

Darkness took over.

* * *

Dick Grayson

Monday, December 5th, 2012

* * *

I wake up to the smell of ammonia shoved right in my face. The second thing that hits me after the smell is the way my throat aches, but not like a sore throat. Like I was strangled until I passed out. The third thing I notice is the man talking to me.

"Robin, wake up."

I blink stupidly as Slade pulls the vial of smelling salts back. Why's Slade here? We were in the server room and he knocked me out, and then…

Right. Strangled.

Where am I? Where are my friends?!

I try to look around, but I can't move. My arms and legs are locked together in the restraining cuffs they usually use on metahumans, and I'm lying on the floor somewhere dark. My fingers are freezing, which isn't a fun way to figure out that my gloves, lockpicks and holocomputer are missing. The only thing keeping me from panicking is that Slade has his mask pushed up and he looks calm. If he kidnapped me as punishment for telling Wally the truth, he'd look at least a little pissed off… right?

"Where… what's going on? Where are my friends?"

"Your team lost." Slade answers smoothly. "You're in a holding cell in one of the Light's bases. Everyone in the building was hand-picked by Vandal Savage and they're all prepared to use lethal force."

"Where are my friends?! What did you do them?!"

"Listen carefully—"

"No! What's going on?!"

"You don't have time to argue with me, Robin. You'll need this." He pushes a key, a communicator and a pocket knife into my hands. "You picked these off the guard when he dumped you in here. Superboy is in here with you and the girls are in the cell across the hall. The rest of your teammates are in the next cell block. As soon as I'm gone, call the League. Get your teammates free and be ready to evacuate. Understood?"

"Slade, why… why are you doing this?"

He knocked me out and helped the Light abduct us. Why's he helping me… helping us escape? Can I trust him at all? He's calling me Robin, not Renegade. Do I still have to listen to him?

"If the Light can't bend you to their will, they'll kill you. Despite what you might think, I have no desire to see that happen to you or your friends. Hold still." Slade unlocks the restraints on my arms and legs, but puts his hand on my shoulder to stop me from getting up. "Wait until I leave."

"And if I don't?"

"Then I'll take you with me and leave your friends behind."

A shiver runs all the way down my spine. He means it. All of it. He's really helping us escape, and he really will change his mind if I don't do what he says.

"Fine."

"Good luck." Slade stands up and disappears into the darkness.

I force myself to wait for the footsteps to recede and the door to open and close again. Then I count to twenty for good measure. When I'm reasonably sure the coast is clear, I push myself off the floor. The communicator is an older model, but I know all the League's frequencies by heart.

"This is Robin, come in. We need help. I repeat, this is Robin. Confirm message! We've been captured and we need extraction. Justice League, do you copy?!"

The wait is excruciating, but I keep sending until I hear a crackle on the other end.

"Co…in. Robin, can you hear me?"

"Yes! Yes, Canary, I hear you!"

"Where are you?"

"I don't know! I got knocked out and woke up in a holding cell. Superboy's here too. They took all our gear, but I grabbed a com off one of the guards."

"Robin!" Aqualad shouts over the comm, his usually calm voice absolutely frantic. "Are you alright?"

"Aqualad? I'm okay, but how are you there?!"

"Deathstroke distracted us while his minions filled the room with gas. When I awoke in S.T.A.R. labs, you were all gone."

"They didn't take you? Why?"

"I don't know. But I promise, I am coming for you all. We will find you."

"We're tracking your signal now. Are you hurt?" Canary asks.

"I'm okay. Superboy is still out, and I don't know about the others. I think they're here too, though."

"Do you have any idea where you are?"

Fuck. Slade said this is Savage's base, but can I trust him? And even if he was telling the truth, how can I justify knowing that?

"I'm not sure but I did recognize one of the guards. He works for Vandal Savage. I think this base belongs to him."

"That's good, Robin, that's really helpful. Tornado got your earlier message but we were too late. The signal on this call is bad but he thinks he's almost found your location, especially if we can narrow it to Savage's known bases. Keep the communicator on and we'll find you as fast as we can."

"Alright. I'm going to wake up Superboy and try to find a way out of here."

"Be careful. We're coming for you as fast as we can, I promise."

I swallow. Slade wouldn't have left me here if he didn't trust me to find my way out. Even though it's his fault we're here… that kind of counts for something. I stand up and look around the cell. There's something on the floor by the door that I can barely make out in the dim lighting. Superboy is lying on the ground behind me. He's got the same restraints that I had, plus a glowing red inhibitor collar around his neck.

"Superboy!" I push his shoulder hard and he winces. I look down and in the dim lighting, I can see that his shirt is ripped to shreds and shallow cuts cover his chest and torso. There's a nasty looking burn on his neck, a long strip of shiny red skin peeking out over the top of the collar. "What the hell? Superboy!"

He grunts in pain, and as horrible as I feel, I have to wake him up if we're going to escape.

"SB, come on! You have to get up!" I press on his shoulder, apologizing silently when another cut starts oozing blood, but he groans and slowly opens his eyes.

"Wha… Robin? What happened?" He tries to sit up and grunts in pain.

"We got captured. We have to get out of here." I hold up the pocket knife. "Hold still."

It's a little risky, but the knife is the best way to short-circuit the collar and get it off without setting off the shocks strong enough to knock out an elephant. Or a Superboy.

"Where did you get that?" Superboy asks while I dig the knife in between the collar's seam. He winces when I accidentally press the metal deeper into a cut on his chest.

"Sorry. Picked it off a guard when he threw us in here." I answer. Almost got it… "There!"

There's a quiet hiss and the collar pops open as the light turns off. I grab the key and unlock the restraints on his arms and legs. He falls, catching himself with one hand before he face-plants into the ground. I jump forward to catch him but he waves me off.

"Thanks. I'm good, don't worry."

"We have to find everyone else and get out. I called Canary, the League is on their way but they still have to find us. Aqualad is with them and he's okay."

"Are you?" Superboy asks.

"A little dizzy and my throat hurts." I admit. "What happened to you?"

"Kryptonite-laced sword."

I stare.

"What?"

"Deathstroke had a kryptonite-laced sword. Didn't realize until he'd already hit me with it. And then…" Superboy looks frustrated. "I couldn't exactly save the day."

I stare at him. The cuts on his chest have started bleeding again from the motion and even in the terrible light, he looks pale and a little sick. Does he have Kryptonite poisoning?

"Deathstroke did that to you?"

"He was going to kill M'gann, I had to get in the way."

What?!

My heart pounds.

"Is she okay?!"

"The fire scared her pretty badly but she was okay. Deathstroke wanted us alive, so she has to be okay."

Slade almost killed M'gann. He hurt Conner. He captured us and brought us straight to the Light. He hurt my friends.

And then he told me he was doing me a favor by helping me escape.

That motherfucking—

"We have to go." Superboy says urgently, knocking me out of my thoughts. "We need to find Kid Flash."

"What happened to him?!"

"He was shot. Robin, we don't have time, we have to find them."

"He was what?! Is he okay?!"

"Zatanna stabilized him before we got ambushed, and I heard Deathstroke say he wanted him alive. I'm sure he's okay for right now, but we have to find him."

"Right. You're right." I take a breath. I have to keep it together. I've been in worse situations than this and everyone's counting on me. Get traught because there's no other option. "Can you see anything?"

Superboy is quiet for a second as he switches to his thermal vision.

"Artemis, M'gann and Zatanna are across the hall. There's three guards in the way, but they sound distracted."

"Do you see Wally?"

"I'm not sure. I can only see heat signatures."

"How far can you see?"

"Not very. There's nothing that way, so either left or straight is the way out." Superboy points.

"Alright. We'll find him. But first, we have to get out of here."

* * *

I pound on the door. It stays locked. I pound again, shouting "Let us out! Let us out! We know you're there, let us out!"

SLAM!

I jump back as the guards kick the door in response and the bang is shocking even though I'm expecting it. Superboy shakes his head. I pound on the door again, trying to annoy the guards on the other side. Superboy's eyes narrow and he waves his hand for me to move out of the way.

"Shut up!" A voice yells, and one of the guards slams something metallic into the door with a crash. Superboy grins and slams his shoulder into the door, breaking it off the hinges and sending two inches of reinforced steel flying into the three guards. They don't even have time to shout.

I make a point of stepping on the door on my way out and listening to the soft groans. They'll all be fine but I don't have any problem putting them through a little pain. Superboy wastes no time marching over to the door across the hall and pulling it open. The metal warps as the lock tries to do its job but it doesn't have a chance next to super strength.

"Superboy!" M'gann exclaims. Their cell is even darker than ours was, so it's hard to make anything out.

"Robin! Where's Kid Flash?!" Artemis demands. She, M'gann and Zatanna are locked in the same cuffs Superboy and I were, and M'gann and Zatanna both have inhibitor collars. Zatanna also has some kind of muzzle over her mouth.

"We're not sure, but the League got my distress call and they're on the way. Aqualad's with them. Are you guys hurt?"

"We're okay."

"Here. I grabbed this off a guard, see if it helps." I pass Superboy the key to the cuffs and kneel down next to Zatanna, carefully forcing the knife into a seam on the muzzle and working it into the locking mechanism until it pops off.

"Bleh!" Zatanna spits, trying to clear the taste. "Assholes! I'm gonna kick their asses!"

"That's the plan." Tossing the muzzle to the side, I start on the inhibitor collar. Meanwhile, Superboy unlocks Miss Martian and Artemis' cuffs, freeing their wrists and ankles.

"Robin, can you get the collars off?" Superboy asks. "Crushing them triggers the defense mechanism and I don't want to zap them."

"Yeah. Give me a second." I twist the knife and push, deactivating the lock. The red lights turn off with a click and Zatanna's collar falls off.

"I got this." Zatanna says. "Kcolnu gnihtyreve!"

A loud click follows her spell and M'gann's collar falls off, along with Zatanna's cuffs. I offer my hand to pull Zatanna to her feet and we take a second to get everyone up.

"Are you okay?" Superboy asks M'gann.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Are you? You look…"

"I'll be fine. It looks worse than it is." Superboy lies. He looks even greener than he did before and at least three of the cuts have started bleeding again.

"We need to find Kid Flash." Artemis says insistently. "And if we can find them, I want my gear back."

"Same." I agree. The pocket knife is better than nothing but I want my utility belt. I point to the trio of fallen guards in the hallway. "We don't know how long it'll be before someone comes to check on those three, so we have to move. Superboy, can you see anything?"

Superboy scans the walls but shakes his head no. Miss Martian closes her eyes and touches her hands to her forehead.

"I can sense that he's nearby, but I have no idea where. He's alive, though."

Artemis looks relieved.

"I can try to do a locator spell?" Zatanna offers.

"No. It'll be faster to start looking. If they kept all of us so close, chances are good that Kid Flash is also nearby. We'll check the next cell blocks first." I say.

"Right." Everyone nods.

"Let's go."

* * *

'_Mind-link established.' _Miss Martian says.

'_Good. Miss Martian, go invisible see what's around the corner.'_

Miss Martian nods and disappears. We wait in silence.

'_Five guards outside the door. They're all armed and they've got big guns.'_

'_Inside the room?'_

'_Ten more.'_

'_Is Wally in there?' _Artemis demands.

'_I don't think so. None of them feel like him.'_

'_It's a break room._' Superboy adds suddenly. _'I can hear them talking. They're trying to get your utility belt open.'_

'_If those creeps touch our stuff…'_ Artemis glares.

'_We each take one. Whoever you get to first is yours. On my mark…' _My teammates nod and I hold up my hand. _'Go!'_

We all charge around the corner. Superboy moves so quickly he looks like a blur, slamming the farthest guard into the ground. Zatanna's enchanted ropes appear from nowhere and take down the next. Artemis tackles the closest guard, wrapping her arms around him in a lock with her hand over his mouth. He fights back, trying to get some leverage, but she holds tight until he slumps over. Before the guard next to him can raise his gun, I slam my foot into his spleen hard enough to throw him off his feet. He hits the wall, doubled over in pain. A fist to the temple and he goes down. The last guard launches himself at the ceiling with a crunch and hits the ground like a brick. Miss Martian appears behind him, face set in hard lines and eyes glowing bright green. He's still breathing, so none of us say anything.

Superboy kicks the door in, crumpling the metal like paper. Miss Martian throws out her hand and all the guards inside hit the wall with a set of matching thumps.

I follow Artemis through the door and Superboy tosses me my utility belt and gloves. A quick check shows that they didn't get past the safeguards so all my stuff is still there. Batman gets a ton of points for that. I clip the belt around my waist and pull on my gloves. Artemis slings her quiver over her back and notches an arrow on her bow.

We make eye contact and share a relieved grin. It really sucks being naked.

Artemis marches over to the one guard who's still conscious, but dazed. She plants her boot on his chest to push him against the wall and aims the arrow at his face once she has his attention.

"Where's Kid Flash?!" She demands. The fury in her voice is enough to scare anyone. Besides, Savage's followers are all hoping for eternal life; none of them want to die and everyone remembers that Green Arrow crossed that line once upon a time. Who knows what his assassin-born sidekick is capable of?

"D…down the hall!"

* * *

I burst into the room, throwing birdarangs before Savage's men have time to look up. Three of them fall down, and the fourth gets taken out by Artemis' fist. Wally is lying on a bed, an IV line coming out of his arm and tubes running down his nose and throat. His leg is bandaged and casted. He still looks pale but he's okay. Together, Artemis and Miss Martian pull out the tubing and IV lines.

Slade words ring through my ears again. If the Light can't bend you to their will, they'll kill you. The Light wants us alive so they can brainwash and manipulate us. They didn't want Wally dead. They wanted to use him to hurt the League and steal secrets and that makes me angrier than anything else.

But Slade hurt my friends. He hurt Conner, shot Wally and almost killed M'gann.

And then he lied to me.

"Robin." Superboy puts a hand on my shoulder. "We're going to get out of here. You taught me that there's always a way out. He's okay and that's what matters, right?"

"You're right." I look over to see that Artemis, Miss Martian and Zatanna getting ready to lift Kid Flash out of the bed. "Wait! We need a plan. Savage is going to figure out we escaped soon if he doesn't know already. We might only get one chance. Miss Martian, can you call the bioship?"

"It's out of range." Miss Martian twists her hands together. "I don't have a way to get us out of here."

I march over to the computer terminal against the wall, nested between the heartrate monitor and the folded x-ray machine. Plugging in my holocomputer, it only takes a minute for me to pull up the building's blueprints. I frown.

"What?"

"Good news? The base is pretty small, so if we can make it upstairs, we're out."

"And the bad news?"

"There's no ships to steal, no cars or vans, nothing to hotwire and make an escape. We'll have to leave on foot."

Everyone looks at Kid Flash and frowns.

"How far is the League?"

I pull a backup com link out of my utility belt and turn it on.

"Robin to the Justice League."

"We've locked onto your location and are coming for you." Batman answers. The knot in the pit of my stomach loosens at the words; it's not a question. The League is coming to get us out.

"ETA?"

"Superman and Flash will be there in less than five minutes."

"Flash and Superman are on the way, the rest of the League is behind them." I relay the information. Relief flashes across my teammates faces and it hits me how exhausted they are. Artemis is leaning all her weight on her left foot, fingers clenched around Kid Flash's hand. KF is still unconscious and he's going to have to be carried. Superboy looks greener by the second. The kryptonite sword took a lot out of him. Miss Martian is doing a great impression of being able to stand by herself if you pretend not to notice Zatanna supporting most of her weight. And if I stop to think about it, it really hurts to be strangled. The bruise on my neck is going to be nasty.

"Someone needs to carry Kid Flash."

"I'll do it." Superboy says.

"Are you sure?"

"Like you said, the League is coming. Least we can do is meet them at the door."

Superboy picks up Kid Flash and I try not to think about how my best friend looks half-dead. I download the blueprints onto my holocomputer and nod.

"Let's go."

We make it about halfway down the hallway before Superboy stiffens.

"They know."

About a second later, alarms start blaring. We look at each other and start running.

"Left!" I shout, pointing to the door that leads to the stairwell. Zatanna throws the door open, holding it for Superboy. "First one at the landing."

I wrench the door shut behind me and twist the handle as hard as I can. There's a screech as the metal warps and rips off. There's a clatter as the handle and lock mechanism fall out on the other side. That should stall anyone following us, at least for a few seconds.

"Robin, come on!" Miss Martian calls. I charge up the stairs and follow them into the hallway. Artemis is taking the lead, bow aimed and ready in case anyone jumps out at us.

"There's a hangar at the end of the hallway! Straight through the doors!" I read off the blueprints. We run through the doorway and into a gigantic, empty hangar. Well… it's empty as in there's no vehicles. If you count people, then it's not empty at all. In fact, it would be safe to say we ran right into an ambush.

There might be fifty armed guards, each with their machine guns trained on us. I turn, but the doors we just came through are already open and waves of Savage's men pour out. We're surrounded, badly outnumbered, and maybe just a little bit fucked. I look around desperately but I can't find a way out of this. Not with everyone half-dead and falling over from exhaustion.

Surrender is the safest option.

'_What do we do?'_ Miss Martian asks.

'_We go down fighting.' _Artemis says.

'_It's been fun.' _Zatanna nods.

I pull a smoke pellet out of my belt, trying to come up with a plan. If we scatter, we might be able to take out a few of them and get outside. Of course, we might get shot.

"Drop your weapons and put your hands in the air!" The guard in the front shouts.

"Not a chance." Artemis retorts. The guards click off the safeties of their guns and the echo is loud and ominous. My grip on the smoke pellet tightens.

This is it.

'_See you on the other side.' _I brace myself for all hell to break loose. Instead, a red blur shoots through the room, followed by a very familiar, very very very welcome voice.

"Incoming!" Red Arrow shouts as a wall of foam explodes out of the tip of an arrow. A wave appears out of nowhere and knocks a quarter of Savage's men off their feet. It's the most beautiful sight I've ever seen. Aqualad and Red Arrow are standing stide-to-side, weapons raised and furious glares on their faces. Behind them, Flash drops an armful of stolen machine guns and Superman hovers a foot off the ground.

A jet engine roars overhead and a few seconds later, Wonder Woman crashes through the ceiling. Batman drops through the hole behind her.

The Justice League is here. We're saved.

* * *

Vandal Savage

Location: Unknown

Tuesday, December 6th, 2012

* * *

"I did warn you that your security was insufficient."

Vandal Savage chuckled. Without turning to face his guest, he scanned across the shelf of bottles. After a moment's consideration, he selected a dark bourbon that had once been a part of Archduke Ferdinand's personal liquor collection. Franz had been a good friend. Arranging his assassination had been an unfortunate but necessary task.

"You did. I admit, despite watching my underlings make such an error time and time again, I too underestimated the children. I didn't believe added security would be necessary, especially considering the state you left them in." Savage poured two fingers into a pair of short glasses and replaced the crystal stopper on the bottle. "Your marksmanship is impressive. A less precise shot would have taken the Flash boy's foot off entirely. Even so, I imagine it will be a difficult recovery."

"Your information is out of date, Savage." Deathstroke accepted the glass and swirled the liquid inside.

"Is it?"

"Kid Flash has a much more powerful healing factor than previously believed. He spent several weeks in a cast to distract from the fact that it healed fully after three days. Given how quickly the magician stopped the bleeding, he'll be back on his feet much sooner than any of us would like."

"That is fascinating. Forgive my curiosity but how did you discover this information? I didn't believe you… worked with any associates."

Deathstroke snorted. "I don't need a spy to stay informed. The Light might wish to reconsider their own approach. How many moles have you planted? Four? Five? And yet, your information and influence are both lacking."

"I'm beginning to understand why Luthor is hesitant to trust you." Savage returned, letting the insult pass him. "For someone who claims to have no affiliation to either side, you are impressively knowledgeable."

"I would be a fool not to keep tabs on such a powerful alliance."

Savage let his lips rise at the complement.

"While I still believe your methods were a bit… drastic, I cannot deny that they were effective. That being said, I do find it interesting that their escape occurred shortly after you made you collected your payment. Surely a man of your abilities could have prevented such a thing."

"Luthor paid me to bring them here. Whatever happened after I brought them was none of my concern."

"Yet you delivered them to their cells personally." Savage stated, watching the mercenary's complete lack of a reaction with satisfaction. Deathstroke was, if nothing else, a professional. He was the best in the business for a reason.

"As amusing as I find your implications that I would help them escape, I can assure you there was a different reason." Deathstroke took a slow sip, carefully holding Savage's gaze. Savage found it refreshing to find an opponent so utterly unintimidated by him. He could reveal a hundred hired guns with Deathstroke in their sight and the mercenary wouldn't so much as blink. Deathstroke set down the glass and smirked. "I wanted to see your facilities. Your followers are notoriously tight-lipped and I do find there's nothing quite like seeing it in person."

"That, I understand. I firmly believe business should be conducted face-to-face. It makes it easier to bring certain topics to light."

"Oh yes, I've heard quite a bit about the Light. I suppose I should be insulted that I haven't been invited to join the party."

"Common thugs, short-sighted fools, the ones easily controlled by promises of money, chaos or revenge. The Light was created for a purpose; to bring about humanity's rightful evolution. The individuals we have brought into the fold have each served a purpose. But you… empty promises and a steady stream of income won't be enough, will they?"

"If I wanted either, I'd work in private security." Deathstroke said mockingly. Savage raised his glass in acknowledgment.

"I ask you this because I would be a fool not to recognize your ambition or abilities. What is it that you hope to gain by taking a seat at our humble table?"

"Power. Influence. Resources beyond any I could accrue on my own. The Justice League is full of idealistic fools and they're blind to the machinations happening under their noses. They've been aware of an information leak for months, yet they continue to do nothing. I am not so foolish. I enjoy my particular line of work and in the future, I intend to continue as I am. That requires politics."

"Hm. What can you offer us?"

"Strategy. Luthor prides himself on his business dealings but he's always been greedy. He's become accustomed to his personal brand of political maneuvering and throwing his money around whenever people start asking questions. But I'm sure I don't have to tell you the American government is not pleased by the weapons contract with the Russians, to say nothing of his recent armament of the North Rhelasians. True, LexCorp supplies weapons to the U.S. military, but they're not picky about selling to our enemies either. I have extensive contacts within the military. With the right motivation, I could… smooth over certain misunderstandings."

"The American government is as corrupt as any other. With the amount of capital LexCorp invests, they would never be foolish enough to try anything against Luthor."

"They already have. I've been approached to investigate Luthor's business dealings in exchange for a mear-complete pardon for any crimes I might be charged with in the process."

It wasn't often that Savage was shocked, but Luthor's influence was essential to the Light's plans. And that influence depended on the corrupt government being bribed out of looking at anything too carefully. Obviously, anything Deathstroke said was suspect but as Savage himself knew, the truth was a much more useful tool. Of course, if he was telling the truth, a full pardon was quite an offer.

"What do you want?

"What I want is to secure my legacy. To do that, I'll need a seat at the table."

"I can't offer you the place among the Light that you desire. The nature of such an alliance is to relinquish complete authority in the name of cooperation. However… there may be an opening soon, one which presents a prime opportunity if you play your cards correctly."

"And that would be?"

"Ocean Master is a fool. His power grab was a disaster and he cost us our control over Atlantis. The other members have agreed to give him a chance at redemption, one borne out of their own fears of being replaced. None of them wish to establish that precedent."

Deathstroke huffed, his amusement clear.

"I have decided to allow him another chance, but he will fail. That much is obvious." Savage added disdainfully. "Luthor will oppose your appointment the most vehemently. Even without what you've told me, you represent a major threat to his power. Klarion's reaction cannot be predicted. Queen Bee has the most to gain from our alliance. Bialya is a small country with few allies and hostile neighbors. She will support you for your strategic prowess. Similarly, the Brain will appreciate a fellow tactician."

"And Ra's?" Deathstroke asked.

"That is difficult to say. The Light depends deeply on the League of Shadow's involvement. Ocean Master had a large following and plenty of his own men. Losing him will mean drawing on the Shadows' resources even further and Ra's will not want to overextend his reach. He has suggested Kobra as a possible replacement, which comes with a powerful, uniquely loyal following. Without knowing Klarion's position, it could go either way. A membership vote requires a majority."

"I don't play games without a guarantee that I'll win." Deathstroke set down his glass. "Unfortunately, I don't have the time right now to devote to this one. However, that may change soon."

Sensing an intriguing change in the direction of the conversation, Savage set down his empty glass next to a relic recovered from the ruins of the Sumerian Empire.

"May I ask?"

"I trust you'll remain discreet." Savage inclined his head and Deathstroke continued. "I have…acquired a student. He's a bright young man; talented and intelligent but phenomenally stubborn. Breaking his spirit has required all of my attention for quite some time now. However, the lessons are beginning to… sink in."

Savage considered the idea of an assassin hand-trained by Deathstroke the Terminator. The silence between the mercenary's words implied a fair amount of brutality for which Savage pitied the boy, but there was no denying that he would make an invaluable asset. A talented, loyal mercenary in addition to a brilliant strategist joining the Light. Even Ra's understood that one capable agent was better than a battalion of cannon fodder.

"You understand I have my reservations. Should something go awry, child abuse is a difficult charge to shake. Even with our resources."

Deathstroke inclined his head but said nothing. That gave Savage more information than a direct answer would have; for one, this student was truly a child, and Deathstroke had resorted to unsavory tactics. Unfortunate, but Savage appreciated those who could do what was necessary. Deathstroke was clearly aware of the risks and had accepted that the payoff was worthwhile.

That alone made Savage curious.

His decision cemented, Savage held out his hand and said, "So long as our goals align, you have my support."

Deathstroke took the outstretched hand in a firm grip.

"I look forward to it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger last chapter, but I couldn't resist. Don't worry, Wally's fine. More or less.  
The next chapter will slow down a little, this one was definitely intense. Get ready for a little bit of fluff and angst for good measure.


	30. Chapter 30

M'gann M'orzz

Mount Justice

Monday, December 5th, 2012

* * *

M'gann bolted upright. A set of hands gently gripped her shoulders and helped her settle backwards against the bed. It took her a few seconds to realize they were Black Canary's hands and that she was lying on a cot in Mount Justice's medbay. She'd been in here before, but never for anything beyond a band-aid. She looked around. Artemis was lying on another bed, fast asleep with a steadily beeping heart-rate monitor. Beyond a curtain on the other side of the room, M'gann could sense Conner in a deep sleep. Deeper in the cave, she could feel echoes of Zatanna's dreams, and beyond that, she sensed Roy and Kaldur's presences twined together. They must have stayed overnight at the cave.

But none of that mattered.

From Canary, she sensed worry, shame, and the desire to comfort, but there was a beautiful lack of grief. That meant her teammates were all alive; that meant Wally, even though he wasn't here, was fine. That left just one person unaccounted.

The one person who needed help the most right now.

"Where's Robin?!" She demanded.

"He's fine, M'gann. Batman took him home as soon as Wally was stable." Black Canary assured her.

"Is someone with him?!"

"Yes, he's with Batman. He's fine. He and Zatanna were both conscious when the ship got back to the cave. Everyone is alright."

M'gann nodded, trying to push herself up and out of bed. Canary jumped into action, trying to ease her back down.

"M'gann, what are you doing?"

"I need to see Robin."

"He's not here." She answered gently.

"Then I'll go to him." M'gann said. A burst of irritated fondness flashed across her mentor's face.

"M'gann! Please trust me that he's okay. You, on the other hand, need to rest."

"If he's not here, then I need to call him!" M'gann demanded. Canary held her gaze for a few seconds, then shook her head in resignation. She could see that M'gann wasn't going to give in and it wasn't worth the fight.

"Okay, okay. I'll get you a phone, if you promise to rest after."

"Yes, I promise!"

"Give me a minute." Canary stood up, walking to the storage lockers outside the sterile medbay. M'gann looked around. Canary was right; she felt horrible. Her body hurt and the thought of moving made her head spin, but as bad as she felt, Dick must be feeling a million times worse.

Slade attacked them. He attacked Dick. M'gann had cut him out of the group mindlink the instant she heard him say "Slade," but she could still feel his emotions. He'd been uncomfortable, wary and anxious but then she felt a spike of terror that shook her to her core. Whatever Slade said right before Kid Flash found them had scared him. Badly.

She didn't know what would be waiting in the server room. When she'd checked Robin's pulse and found it steady, it had given her a second of relief before she realized that it was all a trap. Even knowing what was coming hadn't prepared her for seeing him for the first time. Deathstroke the Terminator was beyond terrifying. And in that moment, M'gann had never been more afraid for her life.

Slade wouldn't kill Dick, but her? The rest of the team? They were expendable to him.

M'gann knew what that monster had put Dick through. As desperately as she wanted to help her friend, she finally understood what was at stake. Deathstroke had set the team up, isolated them one at a time and exploited weaknesses he never should have known about. Shooting Wally wasn't just the violent act of a psychopath; it was a threat. It was Deathstroke's way of reminding Dick; look what I can do. I can torture you, I can hurt your friends, I can kill them if I want to, and there's nothing you can do to stop me.

She didn't know what to do. He had to be stopped. He had to face justice for what he'd done to Dick but he'd proven that the Team wasn't going to be enough on their own. She didn't know what would happen if Dick came clean to the League. If everyone knew what was happening, would it be enough of an advantage to stop Deathstroke? M'gann was sure that if the League really knew what was at stake, they would do anything to stop it. But Slade must have known that. Dick said he had backup plans and endless leverage to hold over his head. What if he came clean and it still wasn't enough? Who would Deathstroke hurt to make Dick suffer for the betrayal? And if that happened, would anything even change?

If Deathstroke made him choose, Dick would sacrifice himself in an instant to save the people he cared about. His family, his friends, the team, Wally…

She didn't know what to do. And if she didn't know… what was Dick going through right now?

Slade helped them escape. That was the only way they could've escaped so quickly. It made sense. Deathstroke wanted Dick free to act but still under his thumb. Threatening him, first by hurting Wally and then by capturing them, ensured that Dick would get the message. But with Robin and all the sidekicks in the Light's custody, he would lose his apprentice and his source of information.

It didn't help the knot in M'gann's stomach that she'd never been afraid of being the Light's captive. Queen Bee had made it perfectly clear she wanted M'gann's assistance. As long as the Light was blackmailing her, she wasn't in any more danger.

Queen Bee was an idiot if she thought M'gann would be pushed around. She was happy to let the supervillain think she had leverage, but the second she tried anything, M'gann would tell her teammates the truth herself. If this mess had taught her anything, it was not to make deals with villains.

Canary reentered with her phone.

"Here."

"Thank you!" M'gann took her phone gratefully, dialing Robin's number. She held her breath as it rang.

Once… twice… three times… and again and again and again. She frowned when the prerecorded message played.

"He might not be available."

"Maybe he just didn't hear it." She called again, stomach tightening even further. Again, no answer. She frowned, looking up at Canary pleadingly. "Can you call him?"

Canary hesitated, but something in M'gann's face must have changed her mind.

"Okay."

Canary called Robin from her phone, but after a minute, she shook her head too.

"Nothing. I'm sorry, M'gann, but he's probably resting. You can try again after you've slept a little."

"No, wait, please. Let me try again."

"M'gann."

"Please!"

"Fine. One more call." Canary relented.

"Thank you!" M'gann opened the keypad and dialed Dick's personal cell phone, a number she wasn't supposed to know at all.

It rang.

And rang.

And kept ringing.

Finally, a voice spoke.

"Hi there, you've reached Dick Grayson. Sorry I can't answer the phone right now, I'm probably at a boring fancy dinner somewhere. If you're a member of the press, I don't know how you got this number and if you call me again, I'll sue you for stalking and harassment of a minor. If you're Wally, no I don't know where you left the remote. Check under the couch. Otherwise, leave me a message at the beep."

Beep.

"Hi, it's me. I hope you're feeling okay. Please call me back as soon as you get this. It's really important. Please, I need to know that you're okay. I know how you must be feeling and I… just… call me back."

M'gann ended the call.

He wasn't answering her. She hoped with all her might that he really was sleeping.

"M'gann, what's going on?"

She shook her head at the suspicious look on Canary's face.

"I need to talk to D—Robin first."

"You know, the rest of your teammates are okay, too."

"I know." M'gann shook her head, feeling her face burn with shame. She'd been so worried about Robin she'd almost completely forgotten that the rest of her friends had been hurt too. "I mean— is Conner okay? He wasn't looking good at the end."

"He's okay. We found traces of Kryptonite in his blood, but very tiny amount. It'll be totally out of his system soon."

M'gann breathed out.

"And the others?"

"Wally was transferred to Central General an hour ago. It was a very quick surgery and he's already begun his recovery there. The last report said he should be released in a day or two. Artemis's knee is going to hurt for a while, but Doctor Fate was able to kick-start the healing process and prevented her from needing surgery. Kaldur and Zatanna are both alright as well."

M'gann nodded in relief. She noticed Canary was still watching her carefully, pursing her lips together in thought.

"It was a trap, wasn't it?" M'gann asked.

"We don't know for sure. But… it's very likely."

"So, what happens now?"

"The League will be meeting later to discuss that. M'gann, I can't tell you how sorry I am—how sorry we all are—that this happened. I promise you, if there is a mole, we will find them."

It was supposed to make M'gann feel better, but there was a hardness in Canary's eyes and a wariness on her face that stung. Canary wanted to trust her… she just couldn't be sure. It hurt. Nobody knew that Queen Bee had tried to blackmail her, and even if they did, M'gann hadn't done anything. She hadn't passed along any information or sabotaged any League systems or secrets. She never would.

But maybe Canary was right to doubt her. After all, she was keeping secrets. If Dick was really the mole they were looking for, it made her role a lot more complicated. She didn't think he was. But after Slade attacked them, who knew what Dick was thinking?

What were any of them supposed to do now?

All the choices were bad ones, but there was an option that only put one person in danger. The one thing she knew was that she had to talk to Dick before they lost him forever.

* * *

Dick Grayson

The Batcave

Monday, December 5th, 2012

* * *

Alfred is standing by the Batcave teleporter when I zeta in. When the light clears, he lets out a sigh of relief and his shoulders relax the tiniest bit. For Alfred, that's his version of falling over in shock.

Before I can say anything, Alfred wraps me in a hug.

"Thank goodness." He says quietly. He pulls back and looks at me with a serious frown on his face, the kind that means he has about a million things to say. "Have you tended to those bruises?"

"Not yet." I swallow. When we got to the cave, it was like the entire League descended. The Flash transferred Wally to a hospital in Central for surgery and everyone else was rushed to the medbay for their injuries. Batman made me leave the second we got word that they stabilized Wally. "It was… busy."

"I'll retrieve some bruise ointment. In the meantime, there are cold compresses already prepared. I recommend you go upstairs as quickly as possible; Master Jason is quite beside himself awaiting your return."

"Okay."

"I take it Master Bruce is staying behind?"

"The League is having an emergency meeting." I swallow. Alfred frowns. "It was bad."

"I'm sure. The best comfort I can give you is that the worst of it is over; you're safe now, as are your friends. If there is to be a reckoning, it will be for another day."

"Thanks, Alfred."

"I will leave the compresses upstairs. Make sure you apply the ointment before you retire tonight."

"I promise."

Alfred nods and turns to the infirmary near the back of the cave. With a heavy sigh, I head for the costume storage by the elevator.

I wipe under my mask with the easy-release solvent before pulling it away smoothly. Another wipe cleans the remaining adhesive off my face and clears off some of the dirt and grime. I stare at the dirty cloth and try to process the thoughts swimming through my brain. Holding cells are gross. I desperately need a shower. My friends almost died because of me.

My utility belt rings suddenly. I jump, dropping the cloth in surprise. I scramble for Robin's phone, digging through pockets to pull it out. Did something happen to Wally? Is he okay?

The second I see the screen, I freeze.

It's M'gann.

What do I do? Why is she calling? Do I answer?

I should answer. Obviously, she's probably worried. Or furious because she knows it's my fault Slade attacked us, and she told me when we went to save Haly's that I had to do something before things got any worse.

I can't answer her.

Not until I figure out what to do.

Shit, she must be so mad. Superboy said Slade almost blew her up and he hurt Conner badly too. What am I supposed to say to her? And even if she's not calling to rip my head off, she must know it's not safe to talk. Slade is always listening.

Even if I wanted to answer, it's not safe.

I stick the still-ringing phone back in my utility belt and hang the belt on its hook. I pull off my uniform and change into a sweatshirt and pajama pants. My phone keeps ringing the whole time. Finally, I give in and silence it.

The elevator ride up to Bruce's study goes quickly. My head is spinning and all I want is to fall onto my bed and not move for a hundred years. But sleeping means nightmares and three guesses what they're going to be about.

The elevator and the hidden door in front of it slide open, revealing the study.

Jason is staring at a copy of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix while he waits. He's just looking at the same page, slumped over in one of the plush armchairs by the bookcases. His eyes are glazed over and his eyelids are about a millimeter from closed; any other time, Alfred would've insisted he go to bed. They must have both been really worried.

"Jay?"

Jason starts. He looks over, then drops his book and charges at me. I have to catch him when he throws his whole body at me, wrapping his arms around in a tight hug.

"You're never allowed to get captured again!" He shouts. I pull him a little closer and put one of my hands on his back.

"I'm okay, Jay."

"Promise!"

"I'm okay. I promise."

After all, what's one more lie at this point?

* * *

Bruce Wayne

The Watchtower

* * *

"We have made a grave mistake." Martian Manhunter broke the silence, staring around the conference table gravely. The other League members were quiet, not meeting each other's eyes. Wonder Woman frowned.

"We underestimated the risks." She said.

"Oh, you think?!" Flash shouted, slamming his hands down on the conference table as he pushed himself to his feet. "Wally was shot! The whole team was captured! If Robin hadn't gotten a signal to us, we'd never have found them! We almost lost them all!"

"Flash…" Superman tried to inject.

"Save it! You may not care that your kid almost died, but I sure as hell do!"

"Hurling accusations will not accomplish anything." Aquaman interrupted.

"That's convenient! You know, it's funny, the whole team was captured except for—oh that's right—your sidekick!"

"How dare you!" Aquaman roared. "Kaldur'ahm would give his life for his friends! If you're so desperate to find a spy, point your suspicions at those who deserve it. Isn't that right, Oliver?!"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Green Arrow demanded.

"You know very well what I mean. Not two weeks after the daughter of a known assassin joins the team does a mole appear. By failing to take the necessary action, you and Black Canary have placed the entire team in danger."

"Hang on a second-!"

"Now who's the one hurling outrageous accusations?!" Canary cried. "Artemis would never betray her teammates!"

"Why not? She's barely known them for six months, and we know for a fact she was supposed to follow in her sister's footsteps."

"Artemis was hurt too! Or are you forgetting that Deathstroke almost shattered her kneecap!" Green Arrow shouted.

"None of them would have been injured if we hadn't allowed a spy to infiltrate their ranks!" Aquaman growled.

"We still have no confirmation that there even is a mole!" Canary snapped.

"Bullshit!" The Flash shouted.

"There is an information leak in our system. That doesn't mean there's a mole!"

"Maybe not, but the fact that someone betrayed the Team and got my nephew shot sure as hell does! And every single one of you that said we had it handled is responsible!"

"Nobody denies the League's responsibility in this." Wonder Woman tried to mediate.

"Don't say it like you weren't involved!" Green Arrow shouted over her, leaning across the table to point an accusing finger at the Flash.

"What Wonder Woman is trying to say is—" Superman tried again.

"She can speak for herself!" Black Canary whirled on him.

"That isn't what I meant!" Superman tried to defend himself.

"Calculations indicate that this conversation might be better suited to a smaller group." Red Tornado interjected. Hawkman, Captain Atom and Captain Marvel nodded, the former two clearly uncomfortable and the latter ready to bolt out of the room.

"No." Green Lantern frowned. The former marine crossed his arms over his chest. "Blame game aside, this threat to the League's security concerns all of us. Even those without sidekicks."

"They're not sidekicks." Flash, Green Arrow, Canary, Aquaman, Superman, Martian Manhunter, Captain Marvel and Doctor Fate snapped in unison. The tension built again, the separation making itself apparent between the League's members.

"John is right." The other Lantern agreed. "Not about the sidekick thing, about this concerning all of us. I appreciate that this has been a stressful night, but it's clear we need to take action."

"While you're all sitting here fighting, the Injustice League and their allies benefit." Hawkwoman glared.

"So, what? We're just supposed to wait around for the mole to make their next move?" The Flash shot back.

"I just said that we need a plan." Hawkwoman returned. "How did you get that from what I said?"

"Flash, that's not fair." Black Canary said at the same time. The Flash whirled on her, not hearing Hawkwoman's words.

"Fair?! You want to talk about fair? We told our 'sidekicks,'" he spat the word out, "That they'd earned a spot in the League. We told them they were ready to fight beside us and help protect people."

The Flash slammed his hand down on the table.

"We lied to them! Instead of following through on our promises, we stuck them together onto a play team to keep them safe. A fuck ton of good that did, huh?"

"They are not a play team." Martian Manhunter said darkly.

"It was a unanimous decision not to grant full membership." Aquaman boomed.

"Can you guys please stop yelling at each other?" Captain Marvel begged.

"We said it was to keep them safe, we said that they just weren't ready, but you know what? That was just a pile of crap! Bullshit from a bunch of cowards!"

"Enough!" Batman's voice cut through the hall. His voice bounced off the walls, cutting through the noise until he had the full League's attention. "Flash. Outside, now."

Batman stood up and strode out of the room, leaving a room of shocked heroes behind him. The Flash opened his mouth, fury flashing through his eyes, but decided against it. Instead, he stood up and glared like he was daring the other Leaguers to say something.

No one did.

Batman was waiting outside the door. The Flash started to say, "Don't you dare tell me I'm wrong here!"

Batman held up a hand, silencing him.

"You're right."

"I'm what?"

"We're going to find the mole, right now. Come with me."

* * *

Bruce Wayne

The Batcave

Wednesday, December 7th, 2012

* * *

"Bruce?"

"What?" Batman growled. He heard Catwoman take a breath.

"You need to sleep."

Batman whirled on her and she held up her hands tiredly. The frenzied typing stopped, filling the Batcave with a sudden jarring and unwelcome silence as the Flash took his hands off the keyboard to stare between the two of them.

"You two really did…" he mumbled disbelievingly before Batman shot him a glare. "You know, I'm just gonna…"

The Flash ducked into a corner of the Batcave and the typing continued.

"We're busy, Catwoman." Batman glared, not taking his attention off any of the dozens of screens in front of him. Rows and rows of directories and access logs flew past. Batman refused to admit that it was beginning to make his head spin.

"You need a break. It's been almost two days."

"We can't stop until we find and close the breach."

"I know, I know. You blame yourself for letting a mole into the system and you think the only way to make up for it is to catch them yesterday. But you've been working nonstop and I know for a fact you're not making progress. Go to sleep, even if it's just for a few hours. Then get back to it."

"I can't."

"You need to."

"I sent the team into an ambush."

"You didn't know."

"It was my fault. I—" Batman cut off sharply as a light on the screen changed from red to green.

"What is it?" Catwoman asked.

Batman opened a file and scrolled through the access logs instead of answering her. He felt his jaw drop, shocked all the way to his core that the hours of searching had just come to a close. He'd been pushing down his fear that he wouldn't be able to find the answer, but he it was, right in front of him.

"I found it."

"You did?"

"Where?" The Flash demanded, suddenly leaning over Batman's chair with a burst of air.

"I found the leak."

* * *

The Watchtower

Thursday, December 8th, 2012

* * *

"I'll explain in full, but the information leak has been discovered and eliminated. Unfettered access was gained to a set of League credentials."

"Someone gave their passwords to our enemies?" Wonder Woman growled.

"No." Batman said. "It's more complicated than that. Hawkman, explain the situation."

Hawkman gulped as thirteen furious faces whirled on him. He put up his hands in surrender, as if it would stave off the judgement and rage.

"My communicator was briefly lost in battle with the Mandrill about a year ago. I saw no need to report the incident, as I found it shortly after the battle concluded and it appeared undamaged. Until recently, I was not aware of his ability to clone technology."

"I noticed Hawkman had been accessing old league files that were irrelevant to his work. When questioned, he confirmed that he had no knowledge of the breach. Hawkman's access to league systems has been terminated. We have records of every file that was accessed, so we can begin to determine what information has been compromised."

"I'm off the system until we can confirm that the leak is closed." Hawkman frowned seriously. "I can't begin to express how sorry I am not to have realized sooner."

There was silence.

"How much of our system was compromised?" Green Lantern asked. Batman frowned.

"The leak was substantial; however, they were not able to access the most heavily encrypted files."

"So… there was no mole."

"It doesn't look like it." The Flash admitted. "I… I'm sorry for how I acted at the last meeting. I was out of line."

"You were worried. We came terrifyingly close to losing them all." Black Canary answered softly.

"Times like these, one feels the very weight of the world upon us." Wonder Woman mused. With a sigh, she nodded at Batman to continue.

"We now know how the information was getting out and what was leaked. This includes the geographic locations of many of our bases, including Mount Justice and storage facilities for confiscated equipment around the globe. Mission reports from the past two years only, as Hawkman's credentials did not allow him to access anything prior to his appointment to the League. Unfortunately, all records of the Team's activity are compromised. They were able to see everything that happened as of the Team's inception."

"So Sportsmaster's mole…"

"A distraction technique designed to sow suspicion and encourage us to focus our search on the Team, not the League."

"Are you certain?" Doctor Fate boomed, his deafening voice overlaid onto Zatara's. The question hung in the air; it was clear that although no one wanted to be the one to ask, they each had their doubts.

"We can't be sure. That's why Hawkman's access has been temporarily suspended and the safeguards we initiated will remain in place until the Flash and I can confirm everything. That being said, I am sure that this leak is closed."

"Good."

There was a chorus of agreement.

"Then we have another matter to discuss; what to do about the Team."

"What about them?" Captain Marvel asked nervously.

"We know that all information regarding the Team may have been compromised; that being said, they've proven time and time again that they are capable and resourceful." Batman answered.

"Disbanding the Team would be an insult to everything that this League stands for. They are heroes, and they deserve respect." Aquaman said.

"Correct. That's why we have two proposed options. We can add more members to the Team's roster to bolster their firepower and formidability, or we can incorporate the Team into the League. They will all be instated as full-fledged members of the Justice League." Superman said.

"The stakes should not be underestimated." Aquaman broke the silence.

"The decisions we make today will reverberate for years to come." Superman agreed.

"We put off discussions of League expansion until the leak was resolved. We can't push it off any longer. Bearing that in mind, the timing is convenient to incorporate the Team." Wonder Woman said.

"Another expansion of the League could generate another escalation of hostilities from our enemies." Martian Manhunter cautioned. "No one needs or wants another Injustice League."

"Point taken. But with a larger roster, we will be able to expand our human rights outreach. No more being short-staffed or stretched thin when crises occur." Superman pointed out.

"In addition, we already agreed to induct the Atom; he's been waiting to be officially appointed for months." Green Lantern said.

"Expansion is a reasonable choice." Batman reminded the League, nodding at Hal to show his agreement. "We've had this discussion many times before. The question now is not if we should expand, it's whether or not the Team should remain a separate body."

"Have they been consulted?" Hawkwoman asked.

"Not yet."

"They're ready to join the League." The Flash said. "They've been ready for a long time."

"There's no doubt that they're capable." Black Canary agreed.

"And they're certainly effective." Green Lantern said. "Just the fact that they've been targeted so extensively means that they're a threat."

"Canary, Tornado, you two have spent the most time with the Team. What are your thoughts?"

Black Canary sighed and hesitantly replied, "As much of a disaster as their last mission was, I don't like the thought of breaking them up. They are a great team and they work exceptionally well together. I think we all know that strong teamwork is more important than individual skill or power."

"Indeed. I have observed that independence is a recurring theme." Red Tornado reported. "They function best under their own autonomy. Additionally, team consensus is that Aqualad's leadership is preferable to any other."

Aquaman tried to hide a proud smile that Batman saw anyway.

"So, if we don't dissolve the Team, who do you all suggest that we add?" Superman asked.

"Put me."

Everyone stared at Captain Marvel. He stared back, face set in a determined frown.

"You said they need more power; well I have a ton of powers. They're my friends and I want to keep them safe."

"We appreciate the offer. I have two other suggestions; Icon's protégé, Rocket, as well as Red Arrow." Wonder Woman suggested.

"If Roy agrees." Martian Manhunter corrected.

"He already has." Green Arrow said. "We spoke earlier tonight."

"Then that settles it. We'll proceed to the vote before we move on to expansion. All in favor?" Batman finished.

"Aye." The chorus of voices echoed.

* * *

Dick Grayson

West Residence, Central City

Tuesday, December 13th, 2012

* * *

I take a deep breath and ring the doorbell. It feels like an eternity before the door opens, but as soon as Wally's dad answers the door, I feel like I've rushed it. I shouldn't be here. How can I really go through with this?

"Come on in." Mr. West says. "You kids all had a rough time. How are you holding up?"

"Um… I can't really talk about it."

"That's alright, super secrets, I get it. Here, I've got your coat. It's a cold one out there, isn't it?"

"I guess."

"Man of few words, I see." He grins. The best I can do in response is grimace. "Wally's in his room. We'll give you guys privacy. Wally said you might need to talk shop."

"Thank you, Mr. West."

"Anytime, Dick."

Wally's dad backs up to let me in, closing the door behind me. I give him my coat and kick off my shoes, taking a deep breath when I run out of ways to stall for time. I head for the stairs and freeze outside of Wally's room.

Here goes nothing.

I knock on the door softly.

"Come in."

"Hey. You awake?" I ask, pushing the door open to stick my head inside.

Wally looks up from his book. A series of emotions flash across his face. No pun intended.

"I was starting to think you wouldn't come." Wally closes his notebook and puts down his pen on the bed. He pushes himself to a sitting position, not disturbing the foot resting on a pile of pillows.

"You know why I didn't want to."

"Can't really blame you." Wally shakes his head, words dry and tone sharp. I close the door behind me and lock it. Wally nods at me in resignation. "Jesus, he's scary. How the hell do you deal with that? Ever?"

"By doing whatever he tells me and praying that he's in a good mood." I mutter before taking a deep breath. "How's your foot?"

"It's actually a lot better. I can put weight on it for a little while, and I should be back in business before Christmas."

That stops me dead in my tracks.

"How?! He shot through the bone and muscle!"

"Healing factor. By the time the surgeons got to it, the bone had already re-fused. The stitches come out in two days. I'll be fine, Dick. I promise."

"Really?"

"Yeah." He pushes himself up and I reach out to stop him.

"What are you doing?"

"Proving it. Trust me."

I hesitate for a second before stepping back and watching him hobble around the room. He's putting most of his weight on his good side, but the slowness is more from stiffness and caution than real pain. He's probably going to regret the demo for a little while, but it really is healing as fast as he says.

"That's incredible. How is it healing that fast?"

"I'm not sure, but no way in hell am I complaining about it." He sits on the bed again. "Dude, I'm okay. You can chill for a second."

Oh. Right. I'm hovering over him and that's definitely not helpful.

"Now, since that's out of the way…" Wally looks at me with an expression that sees all the way through me. The relief bleeds out, leaving dread and guilt and fear behind. I can't help but shift under the weight of it. "How are you doing? Really?"

I sink into his desk chair and bring my hands up to cover my face.

"This was my fault. It was all my fault."

"When you found him, before I got there, did he talk to you?"

"Yeah. He wanted to know about a mission—"

"Our missions?"

"Uh… no. This was… one he sent me on. Wally, please don't look at me like that, I didn't have a choice."

"No! No, Dick, I'm sorry, that's not me judging you. I know you're doing what you have to do. I trust you. You put yourself at risk telling me the truth and that's all I need to know. I just... what he's doing to you is horrible."

"I'm not the one he shot!" I shoot back. Wally glares at me.

"We're not doing this. It's not a contest of who he can hurt the worst, okay?"

My face burns with embarrassment. He's right.

"Look, it wasn't safe to talk before, I get it. But he already knows you told me."

"He does?"

Wally nods.

"He knows I got involved. That busted ankle was his version of a warning."

My throat tightens.

"Wally, I'm so sorry. I never should've brought you into this."

Wally holds up his hand.

"I'm not done. It wasn't safe to talk before, but what do we have to lose now? He already knows and he's made sure I know better than to tell anyone. Dick, tell me everything. Tell me how it started, what he wants, what else you've had to hide, everything. I need to know. Please."

He's got a point. Besides, he already knows the truth. Might as well fill in the gaps.

"I'll tell you anything you want to know."

Wally frowns. I brace myself.

"Did you know he was going to be there?"

It's an honest question, with the sharp edge of accusation just underneath. The fear and desperation of watching my teammates trapped and helpless resurfaces. So does the guilt of putting my friends in danger.

"No. I had no idea. Not like it makes it any better. It was my fault he took a contract on us."

"What did he tell you?"

"He asked if I knew anything about a mission he'd been on that got crashed by the Justice League. He thought you were behind it. If he found out I told you, then that must be why he ambushed us at S.T.A.R. labs. I think it was a test somehow."

"A test? You mean… for you?"

I clench my jaw and nod stiffly.

"He believed me that I had nothing to do with Lisbon… I think that's the only reason he helped us escape. It makes sense; take a contract where he'll win no matter what. If it turned out I set him up, then he would've left us all to rot. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. But I had nothing to do with the League going after him in…" The look on Wally's face sends a chill down my spine. "Wally… what did you do?"

"I thought it would work."

"No… no, you... Tell me you didn't."

"I tracked down intel that Deathstroke had a contract overseas, pulled up the satellite and started looking. When I found him, I told the League."

"No." I shake my head in disbelief. No. Slade was right; he knew Wally tried to set him up. How could he have known that? I didn't even know that! Worse, the Justice League tried to take Slade down and they couldn't. There's really nothing any of them can do. They'll never beat Slade; they'll never be able to stop him.

"I thought it work. Dick, it should've worked. They had him outnumbered and outmatched and they almost had him. Wonder Woman and Flash took him down, they caught him."

"And he found a way to escape." I say numbly.

"He set off a concussion grenade."

I close my eyes and hold up my hand to stop him from saying anything else.

"Don't you get it, Wally? That's how he wins. He doesn't care if he has to blow up a church or shoot a bunch of kids or kick a sick, starving puppy by the side of the road. He doesn't care! He'll do whatever it takes to get what he wants. And he wants me to be his apprentice!"

"We'll find another way!"

"What other way?! There is no other way!"

"Dick, I'm so sorry. I should've told you about it. But you were with Miss M and I didn't want to miss the chance."

I sigh.

"That's not it. I always thought that if I could just get the league got involved somehow, tell them the truth without tipping Slade off that they could stop him. That if Bruce found out, somehow, he could make everything okay. I mean, he's Batman. They're the Justice League. He's just one guy. But now I know I can't. Don't you get it Wally? There's no way out."

"How long?"

"What?"

"How long has this been going on?"

My stomach tightens.

"Three years. Almost four."

"What?!"

I don't answer him.

"That's as long as I've known you!"

"Almost," I nod.

"Dick… this whole time you've been-"

"Training mostly. I've only ever been on two… jobs."

Wally takes a deep breath and speaks more carefully than I've ever heard him.

"Has he made you hurt people?"

I close my eyes. "No. I… I don't know what he has planned for me, but nothing like that yet. I did punch Ollie in the face, though."

Wally stares.

"That was you? With the…" he points to his face, where Ollie walked around with a massive black eye for almost two weeks. I wince but nod.

"How did it start?"

"Slade saved my life. There was a warehouse fire, some kind of turf dispute that got out of hand. Batman and I got separated, I was outnumbered, and one of them got in a lucky hit with the knife. Slade saved my life and got me out of the fire. It would've been too risky to let me go after that, so we made a deal. If I worked for him and agreed to keep his secrets, I got to go home."

"You agreed to it?!"

"He just saved my life. I didn't know anything about him, but everything he did was to help me. Of course I trusted him." I huff. "He wasn't anything like he is now. He was a good teacher and it was basically extra sparring practice once a month. And then it started getting worse and it never stopped."

"Have you told anyone else?"

My stomach drops. M'gann knows. She's been keeping my secret for months and she's in as deep as I am. If I tell Wally, I'll put her secrets at risk and I can't do that to her. Not after everything she's done for me. Not when her entire life on Earth is at stake.

"You're the only one."

"All this time, and I'm the only one you ever told? Wait, wait, wait. The only time you EVER felt safe enough to tell someone was when all the grownups in the world literally didn't exist?"

I pinch my mouth to one side.

"Holy SHIT." Wally breathes.

"I'm so scared Wally. I was so stupid! I trusted him and I did what he said because I thought he was on my side and that I could trust him... but the whole time I was so far in over my head. I don't know what he wants me to do, but the things he's capable of… Wally, I can't stop him. He just makes me feel so fucking POWERLESS!"

Wally winces.

"I don't want this."

"I know."

"But I don't know what to do. He has so much leverage over me and if I mess this up, I'll lose everything."

"Your family." Wally nods, squeezing my shoulder.

"No, not…" I take a deep breath. "All of this. Them. Me being here. He saved my life the first time I met him, and I woke up in his safehouse. He said he'd only wanted to help but saving me compromised his identity. The only way he could let me leave was if I agreed to train with him."

"Jesus."

"He meant it. Wasn't much of a choice, but if I hadn't made the deal, he wouldn't have let me out. That would've been it. No more Robin. Dick Grayson vanishes without a trace."

"Batman would've found you."

My jaw clenches.

"Maybe. But he's careful. He's really good."

"So it's not just about your family."

I close my eyes but my cheeks are burning.

"He could still take you away."

"It's all leverage. Everything. He turned my entire life into an endless list of weak points. It has to stop. I can't let anyone else get hurt because of me. I'm going to end it one way or another."

"I know that look." Wally frowns. "Dick, don't you dare say what I think you're going to say."

"This has to end."

"Dude, stop."

"No. Wally, I can't do this anymore. He almost killed you to prove a point. He's holding everyone I care about over my head to control me. I have to take away his leverage."

"By handing yourself over?!"

"There's no other way."

"Bullshit!"

"I have to!"

"No, you don't! Don't be an idiot, Dick, that's the biggest mistake you could ever make! You're not that stupid!"

"He almost killed you!" I shout.

Silence.

"I'm not going to let him hurt you again. You or anyone else."

"What, so I'm just supposed to stand back and let him hurt you?!"

"This whole mess is my fault! Nobody else's! I never should have gotten you involved! Look, it's good timing for the League. They found the leak. And if Slade is really getting information through me, this will put an end to that too."

"What do you expect them to think? You're going to what, just disappear? What's Bruce going to think? And what if he finds out how long Slade's been blackmailing you?"

"I don't know."

Wally opens his mouth like he's about to shout back at me, but he stops. His mouth closes, then opens again, then finally closes. He frowns.

"Please, Dick. There has to be another way. If you do this, there's a chance you'll never see any of us again. Ever. Or worse, he'll try and force you to hurt us. We can't lose you. At least now, there's only so much he can do without giving himself away. There's no guarantee that you'll be safe." I swallow but Wally's not done. "Have you thought about that? There's no one to stop him. He knows how to hurt you, Rob. He knows how to hurt you without even laying a finger on you. Imagine what he could do if there's nothing holding him back."

I frown.

"I don't have to imagine. Wally, I know what I'm getting into."

"What are you saying?"

My heart pounds in my chest. My skin itches with the memory of being tied down and held still in pitch darkness. Without meaning to, I sink down onto the floor.

"About a month ago, I messed up," I whisper, "We were doing this sparring drill and he just kept making me do it over and over again. I was exhausted and I was angry and I yelled at him and said I wasn't going to do it anymore. So, he took me to his interrogation room."

Wally's eyebrows shoot up in alarm.

"He tortured you?!"

I cut him off, forcing my voice out to get through the story, "He had this… restraining chair. He locked me into it and left me there for... almost eight hours. I… I couldn't move anything or see and I could barely breathe."

I squeeze my eyes shut and stop myself before I can tell him that I thought I was going to die. My throat starts to close and I choke down a breath. The words that have been haunting me for weeks spill out instead. "Before he left me there, he told me something."

"_You. Are. Mine. Everything you have is something I have given you. And I can take all of it away. You belong to me. I own you."_

I start coughing to cover up the sob trying to escape my chest. When my breathing is steady, I work up the courage to look at my best friend. The look on his face is murderous. His eyes blaze with fury and his jaw locks, grinding his teeth together. His hands lock onto my shoulders so that we're face to face.

"Tell Bruce."

"I can't."

"You have to."

"No. I can't. Anytime I talk to Bruce, he's watching. He's always watching. I've found bugs in almost every single room of the manor. He can get past the security… he can get past Batman's security whenever he wants. And maybe if Lisbon hadn't happened… I mean, you sent the entire League after him! Superman and Wonder Woman and the Flash, and they all knew who they were up against! They were coming take to him in and he still got away. He didn't care who he had to hurt. Wally, that was just a job. This has been going on for years! He's never going to stop coming after me."

"We'll find a way to stop him. You can't give up now."

"Wally, no. You need to stop. It's too dangerous for you to be involved."

"Don't you think I know that?" Wally leans in, his eyes hard. "You know what he told me after he shot me? He said that if I ever got in his way again, he would kill me. And I believe him. But you know what? It's worth it. Don't you get it, Dick? This isn't your fault. It's his. He's the one making all of us suffer, he's the one hurting you. You're the victim. I'm going to stop him. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure that you're safe."

"Wally—"

"Whatever it takes."

"No. I won't let you."

"That's not your decision to make."

"No."

"Where you're going, I'm going. Remember? I'm not leaving you to deal with this alone. And I can't talk you out of this, can I?"

"No. Wally, I have to do this. It's the only chance I have of ending this without putting everyone I care about in danger. I have to."

"When?"

"He hasn't contacted me since S.T.A.R. but it won't last. The next time he calls me for training… I'll be going for good."

"How long do you have?"

"I don't know. Maybe a few days. Could be a week or two. I don't think it could be longer."

Wally swallows.

"I'll find you." He says, voice tight like he's trying not to cry. "I swear. I'll make sure everyone is safe and when they are, I will do whatever it takes to find you. We're going to kick Deathstroke's ass and bring you home. I promise."

I meet Wally's eyes. He means every single word.

"Thank you."

* * *

"Hi Mom. Hi Dad," I say, sitting on the dirt in front of the twin tombstones. There's a light breeze drifting through the cemetery, so I pull my jacket around me a little tighter. The sun is shining overhead and the sky is pure blue. It's a beautiful day. "I know I haven't visited in a while but things have been kind of a mess. I mean, you know that's a complete understatement but still. I miss you guys. I miss you so much and I know it's been five years but I just… I think about you every single day. I don't count them anymore, but it's been so many days. More than eighteen hundred days in a row that I've missed you."

I dig my fingers into the soil, scratching through the cold, hard dirt. "Most of the time I forget what it was like before I lost you. What life was like before I had to live with this kind of grief. And then sometimes I remember, or I'll see pictures. Sometimes, if I get really lucky, someone from the circus will find an old video and it brings me back. Do you remember that morning when dad found that Johnny Cash record at the bottom of his costume chest and we had a dance party in the middle of the kitchen? And we were so loud, Carlotta almost broke down the trailer door to tell us to stop bothering the lions?"

I try to smile, but it comes out as a grimace while tears well up in my eyes.

"Things were so good," I choke out. Tears spill down my cheeks and I reach up to rub them away. "We were so happy. And now I can barely remember what it was like not to have this… this weight in my chest. It's not that, I mean I am happy now, most of the time, but you know. It's not the same."

My fingers close around a handful of dirt, squeezing tightly.

"Sometimes I think about what it would have been like if you'd never died. All those little moments we never got. Who I could have been. Do you think I still would've watched Superman on tv and dreamed about being a superhero too?"

The tears are back and I give up on trying to wipe them away. The grief isn't just a heavy weight; it's an open, pulsing wound and the loss is as fresh as it was the day they fell.

"I still remember the shock." I whisper to the stones and dirt. "When you fell, I didn't believe it. It wasn't true, it couldn't be true, you couldn't be… you couldn't be gone but you were. I didn't want to go on without you, I didn't want to be… I didn't want this."

I sniff, dropping the dirt to pull my arms around myself.

"Mom, I don't want this. It was all my fault and I made such a mess and I'm in so far over my head and I don't know what to do! I wish you were here! I wish you could just tell me what to do or that there was some way to fix it, but I'm so scared there isn't a way to fix it."

My hands shake and I stick them back into my jacket, pretending it's just from the cold.

"I thought that if I could just keep my head down and show up when he wanted me to, eventually he'd just lose interest. I didn't think he'd keep it going this long or that he…" My throat tightens. "I didn't know, I promise I didn't! And now I don't know what to do! I know this has to stop. I know I shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't be keeping this a secret! I should do something! But then… when it's actually time, I panic. Or when I'm actually there in the Haunt, it's like the rules don't matter anymore. The only thing that matters is the deal we made."

"What does he want from me? Why can't he just go away?!"

Tears drip down my face and I don't bother wiping them away.

"I'm scared. This is all my fault and I can't lose anyone else." I take a deep breath before reaching for the flowers behind me. "There's only one choice left. I have to. I can't put them in danger anymore. And that means I'm not going to be back… probably for a long time. But I will be back, I promise. Still, I brought you something. Your favorites."

"Bye mom. Bye dad. I love you guys."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betcha didn't see that coming! Looks like Dick's hero complex has finally won out. How will the Team handle his disappearance? How are the Batkids going to cope with losing their big brother? Will the League realize that Deathstroke knew information about them that was most certainly beyond anything Hawkman's credentials could access? How will Deathstroke react to Dick's plan, especially since it interferes with his goals?
> 
> Stay tuned to find out!


	31. Chapter 31

Dick Grayson

Wayne Manor

Thursday, December 15th, 2012

* * *

My phone buzzes suddenly. I close my laptop and spin around in my desk chair to unplug it from the wall. I type in my passcode and the message screen opens.

My heart pounds.

"Tomorrow. 7pm."

And just like that, it's my last night. It's been almost two weeks with no contact, no threats, no nothing. It's been nice, but I knew it wouldn't last. I just have to make the most of it. There's no time to change my mind; I've had two weeks to be sure that this is only option.

I close my laptop and make my way down the hall to the girls' suite. Stephanie and Cassie's rooms are connected to a sitting room in the middle, and when I open the door, Cassie is playing with a stuffed frog. And by playing with, I mean she's chewing on one of the legs.

"Hey Cassie." I grin. "Whatcha got there?"

"Bog!" She answers through a mouthful of green fabric. She's so cute it makes my chest hurt.

"It's a very nice frog," I agree, "Do you know where Steph is?"

"BOO!" Steph shouts, launching herself off the top of a bookshelf. I catch her as she slams into me and we both go tumbling to the ground. She rolls on top of me and beams like the sun, if the sun was missing one of its front teeth.

"Got you!" She yells.

"You got me. You're getting good."

Stephanie beams at me.

"Dad said I was getting better at sneaking around!"

"I'll say. Your diving form needs a little work though."

"Meanie!"

"You're the one who jumped on me!" I retort.

She responds with a series of three-fingered gestures that barely resembled a W, E and M, followed by her finger and her thumb in the shape of an L on her forehead.

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"What. Ever. Major. Loser." She repeats the motions, ending with her tongue sticking out at me.

"You've been watching way too much Camp Rock." I laugh at her.

"Nope!" She responds cheerfully, marching into her room at laying down on the bed. Cassie jumps into the room, slowly leapfrogging across the floor. She's humming to herself, one of those preschool teacher songs. Steph looks over at me like she's confused. "Why are you still here?"

"What?"

"You always have homework."

"I want homerk," Cassie says.

"You can do mine. I have a worksheet," Stephanie pulls her up onto the bed. Cassie jumps up and down, messing up the covers. I grin.

"Nope, all finished. Thought we could play a game or something."

"Really?"

Ouch. I don't know if it's the way she says it or the fact that the idea of me spending time with her is so crazy, but there's a stab of guilt in my chest. I've been a shitty brother and I'm about to be an even worse one. The best I can do is have fun tonight.

"Yeah. I love spending time with you guys."

"I thought you were mad at us." Stephanie frowns, looking guilty while her face flushes in embarrassment. Cassie stops humming and looks between us with wide eyes. Little kids pick up a lot more than people give them credit for.

"What? No!"

"But you never play with us. You just do your homework and fight bad guys."

"Steph, I'm really sorry. I promise I'm not mad at you guys, and I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I… I've been really busy. It was a mistake and I should've put you guys first. I'm really sorry."

"It's okay." There's a second pause, and then I have an eight-year-old sister latched around my stomach in a tight hug. "I'm glad you're not mad at me."

"Never." I promise.

"Play!" Cassie shouts, grinning though her crooked rows of baby teeth as she jumps up and down.

"Alright, what should we play?"

"Let's do makeovers!" Stephanie beams. I make a face.

"'Maybe not."

"Come on! It'll be fun! Don't you want to be pretty for once?"

"Ouch! I'm telling Alfred you said that."

"Well it's true." Stephanie sticks her tongue out at me.

"You are such a brat." I tease her.

"I know you are but what am I?" She shoots back. Cassie giggles at the insult and I roll my eyes. I always wondered what I missed by being homeschooled in elementary school. Turns out, I didn't miss much.

"You want to know what you are?"

"Adorable?" She blinks at me innocently.

"No… you're it!" I shout, lunging for her. Stephanie shrieks and throws herself backwards, diving off the bed and out of the way. Cassie squeals with laughter and cheers, "Tag! Tag! Tag!" I scoop her up and let her latch onto my back. Stephanie is giggling in the doorway, looking between me and Cassie with a huge grin.

"Run." I tell her. She scrambles out the door. Cassie and I sprint after her. I turn onto the red carpet of the west wing in time to see Stephanie sliding down the main banister. I pause on the landing, watching her duck through a doorway towards the rec room.

"Hold tight." I tell Cassie, before throwing myself onto the bannister and sliding down. Wind whips through my hair and the polished wood glides smoothly underneath my feet. Cassie's gurgling laughter fills in my ears and it makes me laugh too.

There's a crash and an, "OW! Stephanie!"

Stephanie starts to apologize, but she sees me and runs for the game room mid-word. I see my chance and sprint past Tim towards the living room, tapping him on the arm as I pass.

"You're it!" I shout.

"No fair, I wasn't playing!" Tim whines, but fair is fair and tag is tag.

I let out a cackle as he starts chasing me. I run through the living room, not stopping as my feet stumble over the plush Oriental rug. I vault over a sofa, reaching up to tap one of the chandeliers, and turn towards the doorway in the back of the room that leads towards the dining room. As I clear the doorway, Cassie decides she wants to go her own way and drops to the ground, wriggling under the table and out of sight. Tim catches up, but he's on the other side of the dining room table and I grin at him.

"Can't catch me!" I tease. He runs the long way around the table and I mirror him, running in the same direction so he's not catching up. He turns the other way and I do too.

"Dick!" Tim whines. I wink at him. He throws himself over the top of the table, sliding over the wood and making the flower arrangement in the giant glass vase shake.

"Whoa, Tim! Breakables!" I grab the vase long enough to steady it, then sprint away a second before Tim's hand can tag me. He runs after me through the hallway, but I'm gaining speed and he's not going to catch up. Stephanie sticks her head out of the door that leads to the service corridor and shouts, "Na na na boo boo, you can't catch me!"

Tim tries to change direction mid-step, but his feet slide too far on the slippery wood floors and he goes down hard with a bang.

"OW!" He wails, curling into a ball.

"Tim!" Stephanie and I run towards him. My heart pounds, the adrenaline of the game replaced with worry. "Are you okay?"

"Owwwwwww." Tim cries, doubled over in pain. Shit, this is why Bruce always says not to run in the hallways. Did he hit his head? Or dislocate his shoulder?

"Oh shoot, Tim, I'm so sorry. Do you think anything's broken?"

"Mmmhmmm." Tim mumbles, eyes closed tightly. I bend down, looking for any bones or joints that look horribly out of place or any signs of bruising, but Tim's foot slams into my shin. Totally off balance, I fall backwards onto my butt.

"You're it!" He shouts, slapping my shoulder and running off. Stephanie cackles and scrambles in the other direction.

"Oh, you little-" I jump up and chase after him, "TIM! That's not funny!"

"Uh, it's hilarious." Jason says, hitting the buttons on his DS to shut it down and tossing it on an alcove next to a priceless vase. "You're such a sucker."

"You know what else is hilarious?" I ask.

"Your face?"

"You're it!" I shout, lunging forwards. Jason ducks out of the way and takes off running.

"Not today, Goldie!" He shouts.

"Get back here!"

"Pass!"

I run through the entrance hall and see Stephanie looking down from the second-floor balcony.

"First floor only!" I call.

"You can't get me on the stairs." She counters.

"Fine. I don't need to."

"I get ten seconds immunity coming off."

"Five."

"Eight."

"Three."

"Five."

"Okay, five."

She slowly makes her way to the bottom stair. I step back, getting ready to chase her.

"Five seconds." She reminds me. I hold up my hands innocently. Stephanie sprints for the hallway, and I give her two seconds before I catch up and tag her on the shoulder.

"Dick! No fair!"

"Sorry, I'm bad at counting."

"You're still it."

"Fine. I'm it." I reach out and tap her on the head. "Now you're it. No tag-backs!"

I run towards the ballroom where I saw Jason duck inside. Tim'll probably be there too.

Tag lasts until Jason faceplants into the game room's carpet and refuses to move. Stephanie immediately decides that tag is boring and announces that we're all watching a movie. Nobody has any objections.

"Okay, what movie are we watching?" I ask, opening up the massive DVD cabinet.

"Care bears!" Cassie cheers.

"No!" Jason vetoes immediately.

"I love Care Bears!" Stephanie agrees.

"Care Bear Stare!" Tim shouts, and he, Steph and Cassie put their hands on their hips, puff out their chests and blow raspberries until their faces turn red. Jason hides his face in his hands and shakes his head in embarrassment. Not sure when they made that inside joke, but it's pretty funny. How many more inside jokes am I going to miss when I'm gone?

"No Care Bears." Jason demands. That's enough to knock me out of my thoughts. I blow a raspberry at him and he throws a pillow at me.

"Let's play the ejecting game." Tim says.

"You mean objecting." Stephanie points out.

"No, it's the ejecting game, cause if you don't like the movie you take it out and put a new one in."

"But you're Objecting to the movie," Stephanie argues.

"No, I'm Ejecting! Dick, tell her!"

"Sorry Timmy, Steph's right. You're objecting." I say.

"But it's the ejecting GAME!" Tim objects.

"Yeah, Goldie, he's saying that's the name of the game. I'm with Timbo."

Jason and Tim high-five. Tears prick at my eyes; I'm the stupidest person in the world. I've been so busy with everything else that I haven't spent any time with my family. And now that I am, I can't stop thinking about how it's my last chance. I'm probably never going to them again.

Stop it. Leaving is the only way to keep them safe. Just enjoy the fact that I'm here with them now.

"Alright, so let's agree here. We're objecting to the movies we don't want, but it's called the ejecting Game. Everyone happy?"

"No." Stephanie crosses her arms.

"Sounds like a you problem." Jason shoots back.

"It's the OBJECTING game! Not EJECTING!" She yells.

"Guys! Let's pick a name later, and a movie now. Or I'm picking the movie and none of you are going to like it." I step in before the fight really starts.

"Care bears." Stephanie says immediately.

"I eject!" Jason answers.

"It's object!"

"Doesn't matter! I don't want to watch it."

"Then you have to pick something else."

"Crocodile hunter!" Jason says.

"I object!" Tim calls. "I want Mulan!"

"No! Watch Care Bears!"

"Cassie, we already objected that one." I tell her.

"No!" She shouts back.

"The Incredibles!" Stephanie suggests before Cassie gets upset.

"I'm good with that," I second. Cassie nods too.

"Okay." Tim says.

We all look at Jason, who shrugs and stands up.

"Popcorn?" He asks.

"With M&M's!"

"Duh." He disappears down the hallway towards the kitchen.

"I want apple slices!" Tim shouts after him.

"Get them yourself!" Jason yells back. Tim grumbles but gets up anyways. I dig the movie out of the cabinet, climbing up onto the shelves to pull it off the top row. While I put it in, Stephanie runs off to grab blankets and pillows from her room. Cassie climbs onto the couch and burps loudly, then laughs like it's the funniest joke in the world.

I push two couches together to make a massive couch-bed and adjust the lights to theater setting so the room is dark except for the lights right over the tv. Stephanie returns with a pile of blankets as big as she is and sets to work making a nest on the couch. Grabbing the remote, I sit next to Cassie on the end and Steph climbs in next to me.

Jason and Tim have two bowls of popcorn each when they come back. Jason hands me one and says, "This one's rosemary and garlic oil. That one's sage and tarragon, and that one has cheese. Alfred says there's more if we finish it."

It smells amazing, but Steph and Cass look the way I feel. Sometimes you just want butter and chocolate.

Then Jason holds out the last popcorn bowl and grins, "Also, M&M's."

"Mine!" We all shout at the same time.

* * *

Halfway through the movie, I look over to see Jason staring at me.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Why are you staring at me?"

"I'm not!"

I raise my eyebrow. He shrugs and looks away sullenly. Without looking over, he asks, "Did it hurt?"

My stomach tightens and I look down, even though the bruises on my neck are long gone. Still, moving hurt like hell for a few days and covering the bruises with performance-grade stage makeup and concealers and high-collared shirt was not fun. If any of my teachers had seen them, they would've called Child Protective Services in a second.

"A little. But it's fine now."

"Is it… you know, worth it?"

On screen, Dash realizes he can run on water and speeds away from the spray of machine-gun fire. It's Wally's favorite part of the movie. I think about everything I've done as Robin, all the trouble I've gotten into. There's been so many times where Batman or my teammates had to come save me, and almost as many when I saved them. And I can't even begin to count the number of people I saved along the way.

"Yeah. It is."

"Even when you get hurt? Or when stuff goes bad?" Jason asks.

"Sometimes it's harder than other times." I answer, not taking my eyes off the screen. I take a deep breath but it doesn't stop my eyes from stinging with tears. But I can't start crying, not here and not now. They can't know that anything is wrong. I have to just disappear or they'll all be in danger.

"I want to be out there."

I look at him sharply. He shrugs uncomfortably, but doesn't turn away.

"You and Bruce are out there every night fighting to keep people safe. I just… I want to help."

"Jay, it's really dangerous."

"I know. That's what Bruce said too. But you've been out there since you were way younger than I am now and—"

"And I've gotten hurt." I snap. Jason pulls back, frowning at me. Stephanie lets out a loud snore and we both freeze.

"Then why is it okay for you but I'm not allowed to?!" Jason hisses.

Because nobody let me be Robin. I snuck out of the manor through my bedroom window and climbed thirty feet down a tree in the dark, got myself to the city on foot, and tracked down Tony Zucco by myself. I escaped Batman in a chase across the city, and when he finally cornered me, I stared him down and told him there was nothing that could stop me from hunting down my family's murderer.

But I can't tell Jason that. I'm giving up everything to keep him safe. There's no way in hell I'm letting him risk his life just because he's a little jealous.

"If you're thinking like that, then that just proves you're not ready." I frown.

"What's wrong with you?"

"I don't know, maybe the fact that I don't want you get to get blown up or shot—"

"No, Dick, it's not about that." Jason interrupts me. "You're being so weird. You just disappear sometimes, and you never give anyone a real answer, and you freak out over the stupidest things! Like when we were at the grocery store and you thought I'd actually tell Bruce about you sneaking out. Or when your phone went off during dinner with Aunt Diana."

"Jason…"

"And how about the day all the adults disappeared? Where the hell were you? Because you weren't with the Team and you didn't bother answering your stupid phone for three hours!"

"Jay."

"No! I'm not stupid, okay? I know something's up and I want to know what it is. Sue me!"

I could yell. I could get mad and shout at him and wake everyone up and risk letting something out that I can't afford to. But the thing is, he's my brother and he's worried about me. He's calling me out on the things everyone else missed. It's really hard to be mad about that.

"Come on, Dick, please."

"Look, Jay. I can't talk about it. Not because I don't want to and… not because you're wrong, but I really don't even know where start."

"The beginning."

"No, that's… I'm just dealing with a lot right now and it's overwhelming sometimes, but I've got it under control."

"Are you-" Jason cuts off and tries again. "You know if you need it, I'm here."

"Thanks. You know, I don't care what they say. You're a good kid."

"Don't call me a kid! You're like two years older than me."

"Yeah, I'm old. I'll call you whatever I want."

"Alright. Dick."

"Real original."

"What? It's just your name."

"Shut up."

* * *

Tim, Cassie and Steph are fast asleep when the movie finishes, so Jason and I put on The Godfather. We're halfway through when there are muffled voice and footsteps in the hallway outside. Bruce and Selina walk in together, and Selina covers her hand with her mouth to hide the fact that she's basically cooing. I look over at Steph and Cassie, who are curled up together and snoring quietly, and I grin too.

They are super cute.

Bruce walks behind me and messes up my hair.

"Did Alfred tell you that you could watch it?" He sounds stern, but the fake kind where he's actually just messing with you.

"He didn't not tell me to." I grin. "Don't worry, they were already asleep, and I think Jason's heard the word 'Fuck' before."

"Who me? Never. I'm an angel." Jason says.

Selina laughs.

"How was date night?" Jason asks. Selina glows and Bruce smiles at her. It's the kind of smile that usually only exists when he's around us. I don't like that it's aimed at her, but it's nice to see him happy. Really nice.

"It was a lot of fun." Selina answers. "Good food."

"Better company."

"Could've done without the waiter staring at my boobs, but watching this one," she flicks a finger at Bruce with a mischievous grin, "spill an entire bottle of wine on him 'accidentally' more than made up for it. Almost as good as throwing him out a window."

"You did?!" Jason's eyes light up as he grins at Bruce.

"Selina!"

"What? You were defending my honor, it was very sweet." There's an instant shift and everything about her from her voice to her stance is pure Catwoman.

Bruce sighs.

"Please don't corrupt my children."

"I make no promises." She kisses him on the cheek. "I'll see you upstairs."

"Room for one more?" Bruce asks. Jason slides over and makes room for Bruce to sit. I stare back over the couch, watching Selina head upstairs. Before I can think, I'm on my feet.

"Where are you going?" Jason asks.

"Bathroom," I say convincingly.

"I'm not pausing it."

"Jason." Bruce sighs.

"No, it's fine. I've seen this part already."

Trying my best to sprint silently up the stairs and down the hallways, I catch up to Selina outside of her suite.

"Selina, wait."

She turns around with a concerned frown.

"Is everything okay, Dick?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything." Selina nods seriously.

"I… you'll watch out for Bruce, right?"

"Of course." She smiles and her eyes soften. She crouches down so we're at eye-level. "I'll do anything for him."

"Keep him safe. And happy."

She smiles, letting out a soft exhale that passes as a laugh. "I don't know that anyone can promise that, but I will do everything in my power. That, I promise you."

"Thank you."

"Goodnight, Dick."

I swallow.

"Bye, Selina."

* * *

Gotham Academy Library

Friday, December 17th

* * *

"Dick, what did you get for number seven?" Artemis repeats, waving her paper in front of my face in annoyance. I snap back to attention.

"Sorry, I guess I'm just a little distracted. Uh… what number was it again?"

"Seven." Artemis states in annoyance. "Look, Dick, if you don't want to help me that's totally fine. But it's really not helpful for you to ignore everything I say to you."

"No, I do want to help!" I scan my work, "For number seven, I said twelve pi minus seventeen."

Artemis writes that down before checking her work to see what went wrong.

"And what about number eight?"

"Dick?" She repeats.

"What?"

"I asked what you got for number eight."

"Oh! Sorry. Negative pi over two."

"How did you get that?"

"Switch x and y and integrate with respect to y first."

"Ohhh," Artemis turns to a new piece of paper and starts working on the problem.

"Dick!"

"What?!" I jump.

Artemis's paper is full of equations and the people who were sitting around us are gone.

"Are you okay?" Artemis stares at me. I shake my head and look back at her.

"Uh, yeah. Just a little distracted."

"No kidding. What's going on?"

"It's not important."

Artemis raises her eyebrows and says incredulously, "Kind of seems like it might be. Seriously, Dick, I've never seen you this spaced out before. Spill it."

I can't help myself. Even as civilians, she's got my back. I really don't deserve a friend like her; especially since I'm planning a disappearing act that's going to hurt her too. Badly. She'll be okay, though. She always is. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to hurt her and I feel horrible about it. I have to. Slade almost took out her kneecap and she's still limping. It took her almost ten minutes to meet me in the library for our free period. This will keep her safe too.

"Weekend plans." I say vaguely. "There's a big chance everything will fall apart and I just need everything to work out."

"I'm sure it'll be fine. And if it doesn't, you're great at thinking on your feet."

"I hope you're right."

"Course I am. I'm always right."

It takes all my willpower not to say, "You sure about that?" or spell out r-e-a-l-l-y? Artemis can't know my secret ID. The fewer people that know, the safer everyone will be.

"Alright, enough moping around. Seriously, you're worse than Wally."

I can't help the smirk on my face.

"Who's Wally?" The smirk gets bigger. If she knew that I'm Robin, she'd kill me for this. If she ever tells Wally about it, he might kill me for her, best friend code aside. "Is he your boyfriend?"

"Ugh, no! Why are you such a dweeb?" She smacks my shoulder, but she's definitely blushing. "He's my friend from… uh… Gotham North."

Wow. For the daughter of two professional assassins who was also trained by League of Shadow assassins, Artemis is so bad at lying.

"You're a terrible liar, Arty."

"Don't call me Arty! And I'm not lying."

"Suuuuure. You're just blushing because it's hot in here?"

"Shut up."

"Wally and Artemis, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S—ow!"

"Are you done?" Artemis raises an eyebrow, raising her fist again.

"-I-N-G." I finish quickly, shooting her a grin. I rub my arm where she hit it, more for show than anything else. "Okay, now I'm done."

"You are so annoying." Artemis scoffs. "Why do I put up with you?"

"Because I'm adorable?"

"You wish."

I shrug, still grinning.

"It was worth a try. It always works for Stephanie."

"Who's Stephanie?"

"My little sister."

"Oh. I always forget you have like fifty siblings."

"Four." I correct her.

"Do you guys get along?"

"Yeah. Steph and Jay fight the most, but they never really get mad at each other. They just like to fight. But I think for the most part we're just glad to have each other."

Artemis nods but there's a frown on her face that she can't quite hide.

"Do you have any siblings?" I ask, even though I already know the whole Crock/Nguyen family history.

"One sister."

"Older or younger?"

"Older. She's, uh… kind an asshole really." She looks around to confirm that nobody's listening in on the conversation. Artemis turns back to me with a frown before taking a deep breath. "Look, don't tell anyone about this, okay?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Jade, she… left home when my mom went to prison. Packed a bag and left me with dad. And dad is…" She lets out a huff, shaking her head while her eyebrows raise like she's reliving a highlight reel of shitty moments with her dad. Sportsmaster. I really don't blame her. "Anyway, we used to be closer when I was little, but I haven't seen her since."

"That sucks."

"No, she's an ass. I just… it's nice that your family is close."

I swallow. My family is close; that's why it's going to hurt them so badly when I never come home tonight. It's one in the afternoon. After free period ends, I have my last English class, maybe the last one ever. It's my last chance to talk to Babs. Then Alfred is picking me up and I have to pretend that everything is fine. I have six hours until my life might as well be over; Dick Grayson's life anyway. And best-case scenario, my family will never know what happened to me.

"Yeah. Yeah, it is."

When I look up, Artemis is staring at me.

"Seriously, Dick, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I am. Fine. Really." Artemis doesn't look convinced, but she doesn't say anything. "Thank you for asking though. You're a really good friend."

"Of course. And if you need anything, well, I'm here."

"I know."

There's an awkward silence.

"Uh, here's your pen back." She holds it out.

"Keep it. Something to remember me by." I shoot her my best cheesy grin so she knows I'm kidding. Artemis rolls her eyes. There's a smile on her face as she puts the pen in her bag.

"You're so weird, Grayson."

* * *

The bell rings and we all pack our stuff. Babs has a glare on her face that could melt steel. Uncle Clark better watch out.

"Two essays due next week? What's wrong with her?!" Babs scowls, storming down the hallway.

"At least we don't have to do any reading this week." I offer.

"I would way rather read _A Tale of Two Cities_ than write an essay. Doesn't McKendrick get that we have better stuff to do with our life than write essays all the time?"

I almost laugh out loud. Babs would probably tackle me if I told her I'm never going to submit them… let alone write them. Honestly, I'd give anything to write the essays instead of turning myself over to a psychopathic mercenary hell-bent on ruining my life and turning me into a murderer. Really a tough call for which one is worse.

"You'll get it done, Babs. You're a great writer."

"Getting it done doesn't mean it'll be good."

"Well, you know what they say. C's get degrees."

"C's don't get you into Harvard!"

"Fair. But you know what does?"

"What? Hard work and an ungodly number of extracurriculars?"

"Don't be silly. Massive donations from your wealthy parents slash foster dad."

"Oh, of course." Babs nods a few times, lips pressed together into a dopey grin. "Academia sure is corrupt. I hope there's not some big scandal someday about parents buying their kids way into fancy colleges."

"I'm sure there won't be. I mean, recruiting for athletes is totally unfair and nobody really cares about that, right? And it's not like parents are paying for other people to take the SAT and ACT for their kids and send in super high test scores on their applications either."

"Right." Babs nods. "Why were we talking about this?"

"I don't remember."

"Cool. Do you want to hang out tonight? We can work on our essays and eat lemon bars that dad brought home from the precinct."

"Hard pass on the lemon bars."

"Good call."

"I can't come over though."

"Really?"

"I'm really sorry, I have stuff to do. But I'll definitely be free next time." I lie.

"You always have stuff to do." Babs whines. "Please?"

"Babs, I'm really sorry. I can't."

Babs sighs.

"No, it's fine. I get it. You're busy, I'm busy, we both have these stupid papers to write. I just can't wait for break. We'll hang out then."

"Right." Before I can stop myself, I say, "I'm going to miss you."

"What? Are you going somewhere?"

Shit. I'm an idiot, why did I say that?

"I meant this weekend. When I'm sitting in my room, writing the papers alone."

Babs laughs.

"Yeah, you too." She nods at the limo that just pulled up in front of the school. "Looks like Alfred's here."

"Do you want a ride?"

"No, it's okay. I have to stay for my gymnastics meet."

"Bye Babs." She looks surprised when I lean in to hug her, but only for a second. "You're gonna do great."

* * *

"Hey Alfred," I call as I slide into the back of the limousine. I pull off my backpack and throw it on the seat next to me.

"Good afternoon Master Richard. How was your day?"

"Not bad. My English teacher really liked my last essay, which was awesome. She also gave us two more, which was more 'some' and less 'awe.' Dr. Phillips assigned a lab report and there's a history test on Monday too."

"That sounds like quite the undertaking for one weekend. I trust you will make sure to prioritize sleep."

"I get enough sleep, Alf. I don't need that much."

Alfred makes a sound that could almost be a scoff. "Despite what Master Bruce seems to think, five hours of sleep is not sufficient for anyone, let alone for a growing boy. I expect you to be getting at least seven hours."

"Yeah, you're right."

I stare out the window as the city passes by. It's kind of funny. With everything that's wrong with me, I'm really not that tired. Alfred is right; I should be getting more sleep but somehow, five hours feels like plenty.

Maybe that's what Parasite was talking about. I haven't forgotten that he called me a lab experiment. Between that and the tree and how fast the bruises on my neck faded, there's definitely something wrong with me. Just another thing to confront Slade about. That one can probably wait, though. I'll have plenty of time to ask him about it when I'm trapped in his lair for the rest of my life.

"Master Richard, if I might, you're being very quiet today. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm just tired."

"Forgive me if I have my doubts." Alfred says. I look up to see that he's watching me in the rearview mirror, one eyebrow raised in a pointed arch.

"About what?" I ask, trying to sound confused and tired and pretend that I'm not panicking. I'm so close, I can't blow it now. Of course Alfred knows me well enough to see through my act.

"I've dare say I've seen you in all manner of exhaustion and you're unusually meditative for even those circumstances."

"I'm fine."

I hear a sigh of frustration from the driver's seat.

"At the risk of repeating myself, is something the matter?"

"No, I'm fine. I just… it's been a couple late nights of patrols. Between Two-Face and Killer Croc, it's been a crazy week."

"Then perhaps I should insist that there are no patrols on school nights."

"No!" I shout, before catching myself. "I can't do that. Crime doesn't stop because I have school, and it won't stop Batman from going out. And you know that Batman needs Robin."

There's a long pause. We pass through the city and the buildings begin to give way to thick trees. We'll be back at the manor in five minutes. I wait for Alfred to respond, but he doesn't. I settle back in the seat and stare out the window. Suddenly, the car starts to slow down.

"Alfred? What are you doing?"

The limo pulls to a stop and Alfred turns around to look at me. I meet his gaze and for the first time in months, I really look at him. He looks exhausted and the wrinkle lines on his face have never looked more prominent. More than anything, he looks worried.

"I fear that this conversation is long overdue."

"What conversation?" I lean forwards, so that Alfred doesn't have to strain to see me. "Is something wrong?"

"Do you know why I allowed Master Bruce to embark on his self-destructive quest despite the enormous risk to his health?"

Slowly, I shake my head and pretend my stomach isn't sinking.

"It was because I hoped that he would eventually move beyond his obsession for twisted justice and find happiness in his life. I knew he would never be able to heal unless it was on his own terms, so I knew I would help him best by standing at his side."

Alfred reaches out and grasps my hand in one of his. His grip is firm, like he's trying to convey the urgency of his words through it.

"You are like a grandson to me, Richard. I would do anything to see you safe."

I feel a lump in my throat start to build. "Alfred…"

He cuts me off.

"You are correct, of course. Batman needs Robin. But not for the reason you think. I'm afraid that you still see Master Bruce as he was when you first came to us; perpetually grieving and obsessed with his mission. That Batman needed Robin to protect him from himself. That is simply not the case anymore. Master Bruce has found happiness. He has gained something that he had not had in a heartbreakingly long time: a family. He has you and Jason and Timothy and Stephanie and Cassandra and Miss Kyle. And you've all changed him, I daresay for the better. When Batman dons his cowl, it is to protect the innocent, not to punish himself eternally for the tragedy in his youth."

He squeezes my hand tightly. "Master Richard, Batman needs Robin because there is no one he trusts more to fight by his side and because he needs a bit of sunlight to remind him that his world is more than just darkness. What Batman absolutely does not need is a partner who overworks himself, constantly pushing himself past all reasonable limits and refuses to take care of himself. I fear that while Master Bruce has rediscovered life, you have begun to fall into his old habits. I stood by when he closed himself away and put vigilantism above everything else and make no mistake Richard, I will not stand by and let you do the same."

He pauses for a second, still staring me dead in the eye.

"Do you understand me?"

I shake my head, unable to find the words to express what I'm feeling right now. He's right. Bruce has gotten his life back. He has more than just his cowl and quest for justice. He has a family, a girlfriend, a job that he enjoys, and real friends in the Justice League.

And me?

I could be happy too. But instead, I have a mercenary holding my family's safety and secrets over my head. I'm choosing to throw everything away to stop him from hurting anyone else. I'm the only one who has to lose.

"I can't stop being Robin. He's… all I have left."

I have to do this. Slade is never going to stop coming after me. He's never going to let me go. If I tell Bruce about him and he tries to stop it, Slade will want revenge. If I turn myself over, there's a chance I can convince him to leave everyone else out of it. But when I disappear, I'll lose everything. Robin is the only thing I'll leave behind, the only thing I ever did that made a difference in the world. The only thing that will prove I ever existed at all.

The pressure on my hand disappears and I hear car doors opening and closing. A weight settles on the seat next to me as Alfred wraps his arms around me in a tight hug.

"You are not alone, Richard."

His voice is filled with love. There's no judgement, no ulterior motive, no threat; nothing but acceptance and kindness. Tears drip out of my eyes and slide down my face.

"I'm scared." I whisper.

"That's perfectly all right." Alfred answers, squeezing me even tighter. "But you don't have to shoulder this burden alone."

Even though I want to believe him with all my soul, I know he's wrong.

I have to do this.

* * *

I look around my room one last time. The bed is made, my clothes are either hanging in the walk-in closet or in the laundry bin, and my notebooks and papers are in tidy stacks on my desk. Everything is perfectly neat, just like Alfred taught me. My parents used to say the same thing; everything has a place it belongs and that place isn't the floor.

My laptop is sitting on my bed, right where I'd leave it if I had to leave the room for a minute. Bruce will figure out that it's a clue and hopefully he'll know where to look. In case anything happens to it, there are three copies of my hard drive hidden through the room. One's in my desk drawer just waiting to be found. Everything I know about Slade is on that drive if Bruce can just figure out where I hid the file.

I've finished everything I need to do. I wish there was a way to hide a GPS tracker on me, but there's no way to get it to Wally or to let him know when my family is out of danger. Besides, the more stuff I try, the higher the chance is that Slade retaliates.

There's just one thing left.

Peanut the elephant sits on my desk, right under the framed Flying Graysons poster. The poster was a Hanukah present from Bruce the first year I lived with him. If there was any way to take it with me, I would do it in a heartbeat, but I can't. Instead, I pick up Peanut and gently place her into my otherwise empty backpack. There's a chance Slade will take her away, but I'm losing everything else. I have to take something with me to remember my family. Besides, when Slade sees the toy, he'll know that I really mean it; I'm never going back home.

My phone alarm goes off. It's six thirty. Slade is expecting me in half an hour. I listen to it ring for a few seconds before my thumb disables the alarm. There's nothing else left to do. It's time to go. I sling my backpack over my shoulder and head downstairs. I can hear the tv in the background; Tim and Steph are watching Mulan again. I would give anything to go watch it with them. Instead, I pass through the kitchen where Alfred is chopping vegetables for a massive pot of stew.

"I'm going out for a little while."

"Where are you off to?" He asks lightly. An hour ago, I thought he was onto me, but now there's not even a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"I'm driving myself to Babs' apartment. We're working on our English essays and then playing video games."

"Very well. Enjoy yourself, and do give Miss Gordon and the commissioner my best."

"No problem. Bye Alfred."

The only thing harder than making it through the conversation is walking away like my heart isn't shattering into a million pieces.

* * *

The Haunt, Gotham City

* * *

I stand in front of the garage, my heart sticking in my throat. It's a cold day with a gray sky and slushy brown remains of snow on the ground. Not exactly a beautiful day, but it might as well be a sunset on the beach in Hawaii. My hands are shaking and it has almost nothing to do with the windchill.

I don't know what's going to happen. Just that it could be a long time before I see the sun again. Or at least… the clouds.

I might only get one chance to tell him to fuck off and I plan to make the most of it. With one last deep breath of sort-of fresh air, I unlock the garage door and slip inside. It's empty again. The sign in the window says "Closed for Repairs." It's not surprising. Slade doesn't need the set dressing now that I know he's evil. The door closes behind me with a click, and I bolt the lock shut. Hopefully Slade will understand the gesture. I make my way through the office and down the hidden staircase, but I stop when I get to the passcode-protected door.

This is it. This is my last chance to turn around. And there aren't enough words in the universe to say how badly I don't want to do this.

The door is silver and reflects the light from the overheads set into the ceiling. I stare at the door for so long I half expect Slade to barge through it and demand to know why I've turned into a statue. Finally, I can't put it off any longer. I type in the passcode and the door unlocks with a loud thud. The sound echoes off the walls and makes my ears ring. When the door opens, I stare into the twisting hallways of Slade's hideout. For a second, I think about just opening doors at random and getting myself lost in the maze. I can't even imagine the look on Slade's face if I told him I got lost trying to find his office. On the other hand, knowing my luck I would accidentally find a shortcut to the office and get to my doom even quicker.

If I've learned anything, it's that I have the worst luck of anyone on the planet.

With a last look at the staircase behind me, I step through the door into the Haunt. The door slams shut behind me with a bang that nearly makes me go deaf. Just to see what happens, I try the door handle. It doesn't move.

I'm trapped.

Breathe in, hold it for five seconds, breathe out. Instead of trying to get myself lost, I settle for walking slowly and going my normal route. On one hand, taking my time feels like a victory in its own right. A nice, big middle finger to Slade and his whole "be on time, or else!" philosophy. On the other hand, it's just stretching the time out even more. I want this over with as soon as possible.

Finally, I get to Slade's office. Without further ado, I push the door open.

"You're late." Slade says. He's sitting at his desk, arms crossed as he leans back in his chair.

"Wow. Someone's observant." I take off my backpack and lean it against the wall. Breathe in, hold for five seconds, breathe out. Is it just me, or is my heartbeat loud enough for Slade to hear? "You know how long it takes to find parking around here?"

"Care to explain why you were late?" Slade's voice freezes to ice, dropping the temperature of the room about three degrees. I shrug, keeping my shoulders relaxed to look apathetic.

"Nah, I think I'm good."

I can feel Slade's mood change from annoyed to fully pissed off. Here we go.

"What do you think you're doing, Richard?" He growls. My stomach tightens but I force myself to ignore it. Forcing a razor-sharp grin onto my face, I turn around and look Slade right in the eye.

"I'm trying to piss you off. Is it working?"

"Very much so."

"Great! You know, it's really the least I can do after you tried to kill my friends!" The last words come out as a furious shout. The sound bounces off the walls. My heart pounds with anger and it pulses all the way down to my fingertips. My hands tighten into fists that shake with rage.

"Ah. I suppose I should have expected a tantrum." Slade presses his hands onto the desk as he stands up. One of his eyebrows rises slightly; a disappointed accusation that somehow makes me feel like a toddler who lied about eating all the cookies. The fact that he can make me feel like that so easily just pisses me off even more.

"A tantrum?! You shot Wally! You almost killed M'gann!"

"It was necessary."

"How the fuck was it necessary?!"

"Watch your tone."

"No! Fuck you, Slade, I'm done! When you hurt my friends, you broke your end of the deal. That means I don't have to do SHIT for you anymore!"

Slade scoffs.

"Your impeccable reasoning has a flaw."

"Oh, well then please bless me with your wisdom!" I shout, forcing as much sarcasm out into the world as I can.

"Gladly. You seem to have forgotten that you broke the deal first."

"No, I didn't!"

"Then I suppose you didn't tell Wally about our arrangement?"

"Maybe I did." I growl. The spark of fury ignites a wave of furious confidence. "But that doesn't change the fact that you're a bastard and a piece of shit."

Slade's eye narrows in fury and I wait for the blow, but nothing happens. I hear a barely controlled exhale and then he growls, "You broke your end of the deal. You should be incredibly thankful that I have held to mine."

"Yeah, I'm sure you shot Wally out of the goodness of your heart! And how about almost burning M'gann to death?! Or giving Conner kryptonite poisoning?! Or Artemis's kneecap?"

"Would you have preferred that I killed them?"

"Fuck you! I'm done with this! Guess what, Slade? I'm not working for you anymore."

Slade's hand shoots out, catching me around the throat and slamming me against the wall. Just like at S.T.A.R. labs. His fingers even close over the same bruises. He let me push a lot farther than I thought I'd get.

"I'm afraid I can't allow that."

I meet his eye, letting my eyes narrow into a challenge.

"I don't give a shit what you'll allow. You're a monster."

"If you want any chance to ever see Wayne or your friends again, you will apologize for your insolence immediately!" He spits, eye narrowed in rage.

"You really need some new material." I grab his hands and wrench them off my neck with as much force as I can. It's a testament to how stunned Slade is that he lets it happen. "You said I'm on borrowed time? That I only get to live with Bruce or be with my family because you allow it? Fine. I don't want anything from you."

Slade's face is a blank mask and I can't find any of his tells. There's no way to tell if he's pissed off or even more angry than that. I hold my ground, waiting for him to make a move. The silence ticks by and the only sound is my own heartbeat in my ears. Finally, Slade looks at my backpack leaning innocently against the wall. Watching his face, I can see the instant when he figures out what my plan is. He turns back to look at me. My heart pounds.

"What's in your bag?" He asks slowly, his voice and body language still an unreadable blank.

"See for yourself."

He grabs my backpack. I tense as he pulls out a faded stuffed elephant by its ears, and despite the fact that this is the most dangerous game of chicken I've ever played in my life, I'm worried that he's going to destroy the only reminder I have of my family. But instead of ripping the toy apart just to be an asshole, he stares at it. The look on his face is so surprising I almost miss it. Slade looks absolutely shocked.

Then things get weird. Slade laughs.

Not a Joker-psychopath-screech laugh or a monologuing villain about-to-reveal-a-death-trap laugh, but an honest to god chuckle. He stands there, holding Peanut in his hands while he just… laughs.

My brain stalls out.

"Well done, Richard." Slade says. "You really are something else."

What the hell is going on? Why is he laughing? Did I just unlock some new level of fury they don't even have a word for?

"Just when I think I've managed to put out all the fires, you do something that I never saw coming." He shakes his head. "I thought I understood you. I thought you would do whatever it took to stay with your family. Whatever it took to keep being the hero. But I underestimated your need to self-sacrifice. I should've known that you would rather face me alone than risk the lives of your loved ones."

He sighs, stepping back like he's trying to get a better look at me. I steel myself for whatever he's going to say next.

"You never expected to leave this meeting, did you?"

That's a question I can answer.

"I know I'm not."

"Then might I ask, what exactly did you hope to accomplish?"

I draw myself up and look him in the eye. I'm done being intimidated by him.

"I wanted you to know that I'm done doing what you want. I know I'm not leaving here. Maybe my friends will find me someday, maybe they'll take you out once and for all, or maybe they won't. Maybe I'll be stuck with you forever. But there's one thing I do know; I'm done letting you threaten the people I care about and I'm done being scared of you. So do your worst."

"And hypothetically, what would stop me from going after your loved ones now? It would be especially easy with you here in my custody."

Thank god I thought this through. I knew he would ask that, and it's only because of how many times I rehearsed this that I can get the words out. Slade is bluffing. I have to call him out on it right now or I'll lose everything.

"Because Batman doesn't know where I am."

"And why should that matter?"

"You know why I was late? I parked my bike at the train station. Left Batman an apology note, told him I was going back to the circus. As far as he knows, I just ran away. If you hurt anyone, if you touch a single hair on any of my family's head, that will be enough for him to figure out that you're responsible for my disappearance. It'll be personal." I clench my jaw. "He'll come for you. There's nothing in the world that can stop him from avenging the people he cares about."

Slade doesn't say anything, he just keeps his scrutinizing gaze on me.

"You don't want Batman after you." I say. "Why risk it by going after them? Especially when I'm already right here. It's not like you don't have a million other ways to torture me."

"Is that what you want? For me to hurt you?" Slade asks, his voice soft like the shallow tide before a tsunami hits.

"What I want? I want you to leave me alone and never bother me again!"

"I can't do that."

"And why the fuck not?!"

"Aside from the fact that you agreed to work for me, I took an enormous risk when I saved your life. I put everything on the line to do it. I abandoned a contract to prevent those men from shooting you. It has taken years to begin to undo the fallout from that decision, to make amends and have the bounties on my head expunged. I am not an altruistic man. You cannot even begin to imagine the investment that I have put into you. That being said, I truly don't want to force you to obey me. I have tried using brute force to keep you in line and I regret it immensely. I am sorry for hurting you, and I recognize the consequences my actions have had on your overall well-being."

Bullshit.

"If you're really sorry, you'll let me go."

"Unfortunately, your role as my apprentice is non-negotiable. That being said, it's clear that the original terms of our agreement are no longer appropriate. We've both pushed the boundaries of what was agreed to. I am willing to…" He pauses mid-sentence, placing Peanut gently onto my desk before looking back at me, "Renegotiate the terms to come to an arrangement where we both benefit."

"Benefit?! The only reason I'm here is because you're blackmailing me! I don't want to be your apprentice and I don't want to work for you anymore."

"Blackmail is an ugly word."

"So is your face."

"Richard, I suggest that you take this seriously."

"You think I'm not?! You shot my best friend! You almost killed M'gann and you hurt Artemis and Conner! You ruined my life! You've been blackmailing me and threatening and manipulating me since I was eleven and you… I don't care what you do to me anymore. Do you understand that? I didn't come here because you told me to, I came here to tell you that I'm done. I'm not working for you anymore."

"As I've reminded you, that's not negotiable. However, I do want us to have an amicable relationship. Under conditions where you can thrive, you are a phenomenally talented student."

"That's never going to happen."

"We are in negotiations, Richard. Think like a businessman. You have an opportunity to state your terms. I will only make you this offer once, and only out of respect for the fact that you managed to outmaneuver me. If you don't want to negotiate, then I'm perfectly willing to do this the hard way. You're already acquainted with the detention facilities in this hideout; I assure you they will not be nearly as pleasant as they were the first time around."

The terror in the pit of my stomach makes me hesitate. No matter tempting it sounds to make a new deal, to believe that there's a way Slade won't torture me, to trust what he's saying, I know better. He only does things if he can benefit. Whatever the reason is, he doesn't want to do this "the hard way." He wants me to make a deal. That means I can't give in.

"I'm done working for you." I frown. Slade crosses his arms over his chest.

"You need to consider that there is a lot that you can gain from a willing partnership."

"What, like it'll be good to put on my resume?" I spit.

"I told you that you're not the mole. But would you like to be?"

"Are you kidding me?! That's how you're gonna try and convince me?"

"Not for the Light, of course, but for the League."

I freeze.

"Wait, what?"

"You already know that the Light has several ways in place to steal information from the League and manipulate the team. Would you like to even the score?"

I frown at him, but my heart is pounding.

"…how?"

"As the Light's plans evolve to include me, you'll be privy to plenty of information that would be of phenomenal assistance to the League. As long as the world sees Renegade as the dutiful apprentice by my side, I see no issue in allowing Robin to pass sensitive information along to the heroes."

"And when the Light figures out they have a leak? One that conveniently started around the time I showed up? What then?"

Slade bares his teeth in a grin that shoots ice into the pit of my stomach.

"I'll frame my competition and increase my standing in the Light's hierarchy."

"So you always win."

"There's no reason this situation can't benefit both of us."

"And if I don't want to?"

"By all means, you don't have to act as a mole. But if you choose to, I will ensure that you are protected from discovery."

"You'll seriously let me give away villain secrets?"

"Yes." No hesitation, no ominous pause, no hidden undertones. It's the most open he's ever been. I know I can't trust him but something in my gut says he means it.

"You'd trust me enough to do that?" I ask incredulously.

"You'll self-censor anything that could lead to your exposure, thereby protecting us both. And as for the Light, make no mistake, I do not work for them. They pay well, and I respect power and ambition, but I do not wish to see them succeed. Vandal Savage's idea of a new world order is sickening and I trust Luthor only to the end of my rifle scope. It is in both of our interests to be in a position to interfere with their plans if necessary."

"And what's going to stop me from telling Batman?"

"The same thing that's stopped you from telling him anything so far. You don't want him to know. At least, not until you have something solid to prove to him that your actions weren't in vain."

I want to tell him he's wrong… but he's not. Slade sees the look on my face and nods, his eye flashing in triumph.

"Well, Richard? State your terms."

I take a deep breath to steel myself.

"Everyone else stays out of it. This is between you and me. No more threatening to expose my secret identity or going after my friends. You don't ever hurt them again, or my family, and especially not Bruce."

"And you accept your role as my apprentice once and for all. You will follow my orders and do exactly as I say when you are in the role of Renegade."

"AND—" I look up and meet Slade's gaze unflinchingly. "You do not own me. This is a partnership. Whatever you want it to look like to the rest of the world, I'll play along, but you do not own me. I don't owe you anything, I'm agreeing to this because it benefits me."

"So long as you hold to this agreement, I accept your terms."

He holds out his hand and I shake it without hesitating. When I try to pull my hand away, Slade's grip tightens.

"Here's to our partnership, Richard. I look forward to it."

This is a way to help the League, keep my family safe and get Slade off my back. Whatever Slade's getting out of this, I can't pretend this isn't a good deal for me too.

"Me too."

Slade smirks and lets go of my hand before turning back to his desk.

"Now that this matter is settled, put your uniform on. There's something you need to know."

"What?"

"As a good faith demonstration for our new arrangement, I'll tell you the first secret the Light wishes to keep hidden."

"What is it?"

"The Light's mole had nothing to do with the Team or the Justice League."

"That's not true." Batman confirmed that Hawkman's login was stolen. There wasn't a mole at all. At least... that's what we all wanted to be true.

"Please, Richard. Do you really think someone using Hawkman's credentials would be able to steal any information of value? No, there is someone else working from inside to steal secrets."

I swallow.

"Who?"

Slade leans forward.

"Are you sure you want to know?"

"Tell me." I nod.

"Selina."

Selina.

My heart pounds. My fingers feel clammy. My lungs don't want to breathe.

Selina.

"No."

Selina can't be the mole.

Slade doesn't say anything.

"No! You're lying!"

Still nothing.

"She's not! She wouldn't do that!"

No, she wouldn't. She wouldn't. No! Bruce trusts her! He asked all of us to trust him that she's changed for good. She said she changed! She promised me she'd take care of him‼!

"You're lying." Slade still doesn't answer. I swallow, heart pounding. "Prove it."

"Get your uniform on."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dick is definitely learning but he still doesn't really understand how far Slade will go to get what he wants. I sure hope his decision or his weird behavior doesn't make anyone suspicious or have bad consequences for everyone involved.
> 
> And as for Selina... let me know what you think. Is she working with the Light to steal the Justice League's secrets? Or was it just convenient and somewhat suspicious timing that she moved into the manner and inserted herself so close to Batman?


	32. Chapter 32

Dick Grayson

The Haunt

December 17th, 2012

* * *

"Are you sure you want to know?"

"Tell me."

"Selina."

"No."

No. No. No, no, no, no, no, NO! That can't be true!

Slade doesn't say anything.

"No! You're lying!"

Still nothing.

"She's not! She wouldn't do that!"

No, she wouldn't. She wouldn't. No!

Bruce trusts her! He asked all of us to trust him that she's changed for good. She said she changed! She promised me she'd take care of him‼!

"You're lying."

Slade still doesn't answer. I swallow, heart pounding.

"Prove it."

"Get your uniform on."

My body feels numb. My mouth opens like I need to say something, but nothing comes out. It can't be true. But… but I have to know.

I go back to my room on autopilot, changing into Renegade's uniform and putting on all the gear without thinking. Slade is waiting in the office, a pile of blueprints and photographs waiting on the table against the wall.

When I walk in, he frowns.

"Sit down before you pass out." He orders. One second I'm walking towards the chair, the next second I'm sitting down and shaking. Slade has one hand on my shoulder and the other on my back to steady me.

"Breathe."

He reaches for something out of sight and holds up a plastic water bottle. He unscrews the top and holds it out for me.

"Here. Drink some water."

It helps. Slade waits patiently, still holding me up until I can get my breathing under control again.

"I'm okay." I say, trying to push him off. "I'm fine. Keep going, I need to know."

"Finish the water."

"No, I'm good. I'm good."

"Are you sure?"

I nod.

"I shouldn't have told you, I didn't know you'd react so strongly. We don't need to keep going."

"Yes we do. Slade, please, I need to know."

"Are you sure?" Slade repeats, the words sounding almost hesitant. Hearing Slade sound even a little bit unsure makes my head spin.

"Yes." I say with so much force I'm almost spitting the words out. "Please."

"Alright." He stands up and walks over to the table covered in blueprints. I take a deep breath and hold it for so long I can feel my heart pounding against my lungs.

Focus.

Just get through this. If it's not true, then there's nothing to freak out over now. But if it is… that means everything Selina has ever said to me is a lie. She promised she'd watch out for Bruce! She promised!

No. Don't think about that now.

I force myself onto my feet and follow Slade over to the table. It's covered in blueprints; loading docks, security offices, main gallery, smaller viewing galleries… I frown. They're the schematics for the Gotham Museum of Art. Slade clears his throat and I brace myself for the big reveal, to find out how Selina has been using all of us.

"Were you aware that Arthur Colonus passed away two weeks ago?" Slade changes the subject completely.

"What does that have to do with Selina?" I demand.

"You told me that you needed proof. Here's how you'll get it." Slade's voice is as sharp as a knife and I flinch involuntarily. "Did you hear about Colonus?"

My throat feels dry when I answer, "Yeah. I heard about it on the news. He used to work in the stock market before Lehman Brothers went under."

Slade nods, continuing, "His son expected to inherit a number of family heirlooms that were instead endowed to the museum."

He hands me a stack of pictures from the table. Looking at them doesn't clear up any of the confusion.

"This sword belonged to King Edward the Fourth. It was given to one of the Colonus' ancestors as a gift. Its current value is just under 1.6 million dollars. In addition to the sword, there are two diamond necklaces and an emerald ring that are collectively worth 3.2 million dollars, give or take."

My eyes bulge.

"Look over the blueprints and be ready to leave in twenty minutes."

"Wait, what?"

Slade doesn't answer. My brain is spinning and I fight to piece together what he's saying.

"Let me get this straight… we're breaking into the museum? Right now? To steal those?" I demand.

"Yes." Slade answers. "I was hired by Colonus' son to acquire them, and by accompanying me, you'll get your proof about Selina."

"What, no, I'm… I'm not helping you rob the museum!"

"We won't be doing anything. We're going to negotiate with their new security deputy." Slade answers dismissively. "Of course, if you don't care to join me, you're more than welcome to wait here until I get back."

Dammit. I need to know. If Selina's not the spy… I need to know if Slade is lying to me. If he's not… if Selina really is working for the other side… I need to know so I can stop her from hurting anyone else.

"If it makes you feel any better, the young mister Colonus was quite desperate. That ring is the only thing he had left from his late mother, Mary. She died when he quite young, after all."

I flinch, grief swelling up at the reminder of my mom. I try to push the pain down, but the hot sting of betrayal gets in the way. My chest tightens and my face burns red and a wave of emotions hits me again. Selina betrayed us. She lied to me. She said she only wanted what was best for Bruce and for us, that she was trying to be better. She asked me to give her a chance and I did and she promised and she… she was…

She could have been my new mom.

"Be in the garage in 20 minutes." Slade says gently, heading for the office door. He pauses and turns back. The look on his face is solemn and steady; on the other hand, my face is bright red and I can feel tear tracks drying on my cheeks. He's probably thinking about how pathetic I look. But instead of mocking me, his voice is as soft as I've ever heard it. "I'm sorry, Richard."

* * *

Slade parks in an alley two blocks north of the museum. He pulls a black duffel bag out of the trunk and extracts two longswords and straps them to his back. A full arsenal of guns, knives and magazines follow. Without looking, he hands me a flash drive, which I tuck into one of my belt compartments. Instead of any of my usual weapons, Slade pushes a sheathed broadsword at me, complete with an over-the-back holster. I stare down at it in confusion, not knowing what he expects me to do with it.

"I don't know how to use that." I protest, holding it as far away from me as I can. It's heavy enough that leaning it on the ground is quickly the best option.

"That doesn't matter; you're not going to use it. Now put it on."

I hesitate for a second before trying to strap the broadsword onto my back. The fit is all wrong. The shoulder strap is too short and I have to pull hard to get the latch to close, leaving the edges to dig into the side of my neck. The strap around my chest is almost the right size, but it's too tight against my body armor and the whole thing squeezes against my lungs. The unexpected weight throws me off balance, pulling the strap even tighter over my neck, and I have to stand completely straight to avoid being strangled. Slade turns his attention to me, inspecting the weapon-turned-corset. My stomach drops when he moves behind me and pulls on the scabbard, but instead of causing pain, there's a "click" and suddenly the pressure on my ribs is gone.

"You missed the clip in the back," he explains. "Be very careful. I don't want to you to impale yourself by accident, so there is no flipping tonight. Stay on your feet. Do you understand?"

"Why do I have to carry this thing?"

"Your movement style is very distinctive. To avoid accidental recognition, you need to physically appear different. You are not to make a sound, nor remove any part of your costume or mask. Your mannerisms are the only other thing that could give you away."

We're really going to meet Selina. This is real. There's a razor thin chance that this is a trick and that Slade is lying; I'd be lying to myself if I pretended that I wasn't clinging to it with everything I have. While I'm distracted, Slade puts on his black-and-orange mask, stuffs the duffel bag back into the trunk, and locks the car.

"Stay close," Slade instructs before scaling the side of a fire escape and disappearing onto the roof. I follow him but the sword is really heavy and with the holster, I can barely move. Slade has the roof door open and a program running a fake system reboot of the museum's security system by the time I catch up. If anyone tries to check the motion detectors, perimeter alarms or security feeds, they'll just see the system restarting. It'll be suspicious if anyone notices, but they'll have to wait for it to finish before everything comes back online.

"Remember, not a word." Slade says. I frown.

"I know."

"I'm serious. Beyond the danger of recognition, I need to be sure that you will be able to keep your cover as Renegade. Your ability to accompany me on more sensitive missions hinges on your performance tonight."

Right. Don't think about Selina and how she may or may not be a traitor. Think about how much good I'll be able to do if I can steal secrets from the Light's inner circle. I nod at Slade.

"Good. Now where would like to be hit?"

"What?"

"You require proof, I'll get however much you need. If Selina has truly turned over a new leaf, surely she wouldn't permit a child to be hurt in front of her."

"She wouldn't."

"Then where would you like to be hit?"

"No." I cross my arms over my chest.

"Will anything less suffice to convince you?" Slade raises an eyebrow. I swallow. Dammit, he's right.

"On the cheek. I'll stage fall."

"That won't be necessary."

"You're not really hitting me."

"There can be no room for doubt, Richard. She's a professional criminal and a trained combatant; she can tell when a punch is pulled. And if you don't get a definitive answer, this trip was in vain."

"I don't want any bruises."

"Or we can turn back and you never get your answer."

"Why do I have to choose between getting a straight answer on whether or not my dad's girlfriend is a traitor or getting hit in the face?!" I snap, suddenly furiously angry. Slade doesn't answer. Asshole. I fume. "Fine. But we're not doing this again ever. I mean it. Ever."

Slade just hums in response.

* * *

Selina Kyle

Gotham Museum of Art

December 17th, 2012

* * *

"Hello, Catwoman. Or would you prefer Selina?"

Selina whirled around, nearly dropping her measuring tape. She'd heard the footsteps and felt the pressure shift in the room when the maintenance door opened but she'd been expecting a certain tall, dark and handsome someone. Not…

"Deathstroke."

She knew who the mercenary was; it was hard not to in her former line of work. He had an impressive reputation and she'd always been impressed from afar, but even though she respected him, his disregard for casualties was disturbing. He always got the job done no matter how many people got hurt.

Of course, that respect had always hinged on the fact that she'd never actually dealt with him. Now, she'd just been snuck up on by the mercenary who could singlehandedly beat the Justice League, who was standing about three feet away, armed to the teeth, and calling her by name like they were old friends.

If she were anyone else, she might've felt alarmed or uneasy. Luckily, it wasn't in a cat's nature to be intimidated.

"I didn't know you were in town," she purred, leaning on the case she'd been working on.

"I just arrived. You see, I've come to congratulate you."

"To congratulate me?" She repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Not that I mind the praise, but I'm not sure I'm following you."

"I've heard that things with Wayne are progressing well. That's quite an accomplishment, Selina. Scamming billionaires is messy work."

Selina's heart pounded. Why was he talking about Bruce? Had someone hired Deathstroke to take him out? Why was he there? No. Selina took a deep breath and exhaled her fears out with the air. If he'd accepted a contract on Bruce, he wouldn't waste time talking to her. That meant he wanted something else, and the best thing to do was keep the visit civil and short.

"I'll thank you to stay out of my affairs, Wilson." She shot back pointedly, using his name to get back at him for the personal attack. A flash of movement caught her eye and it took all of her self-control not to jump back like a startled kitten. They weren't alone.

Standing at Deathstroke's back was a boy dressed from head to toe in black and orange. He wore a pointed mask that hid most of his face, but even without seeing his expression she could feel that something wasn't right. The kid stood as still as a statue but his face never moved from hers. When Selina looked at him, she would have sworn she saw him flinch. She felt her stomach tighten with dread at the sight of him even though she wasn't sure why.

"Who's the kid?"

"That happens to be a personal subject."

"Touché." He wasn't going to tell her who the kid was, so she didn't see any point dragging this on longer. She wanted him gone. That meant cutting right to the chase. "So what do you really want?"

"I have a job for you. Two necklaces, a ring and a sword."

"Are there specific ones you're looking for, or can I just give you whatever I've got lying around in my storage space?"

"Very amusing, however, a client of mine is interested in procuring the Colonus endowment. The items in question should have gone to him after the contract was fulfilled. Due to unforeseen changes in Mr. Colonus's will, the items were given to the museum."

"Why tell me?"

"Courtesy. This is your hunting ground after all, particularly now that you've… taken employment here?"

Selina bristled at the question he made into an insult. He was mocking her.

"Things aren't always what they look like." She replied haughtily, turning to give him the shoulder and show him the words had bounced off. She needed the villains of the world to think she was still Catwoman. If they knew she was really, truly retired, she, Bruce and all the kids would be in danger. "You'd be amazed what you can hear when they think you've changed sides."

"Forgive me, I assure you I meant no insult. And as much as I hate to impose myself upon your plans, I did make my employer a promise. I will make it very well worth your while if you assist me." Slade pauses. "I trust it won't be an issue for you, Selina?"

"Getting everything? Not a problem. But I don't see why I should do this for you. After all, I'm 'retired.'" She winked.

"I'm offering you more than any retrieval fee."

"Don't insult me. I need double, at least."

"Try forty percent."

"Eighty."

"Fifty."

"Seventy-five."

"That's acceptable."

"Meow."

"As always, a pleasure doing business with you."

Selina put her hand on her hip and raised her eyebrow. As always? If she didn't desperately want this meeting to be over, she might've called him out on the fact that they'd never worked together before. If she had her way, they never would again.

"I'm sure. When can I expect the details?"

"I have them right here." He snapped his fingers suddenly. "Renegade."

Selina stared. Renegade was standing frozen in place, still looking at her intently. She missed the motion when Deathstroke raised his hand, but she certainly didn't miss the thundercrack when his hand made contact with the kid and sent him flying. Her whip was in her hand before she'd even realized what happened.

"What are you doing?!" She snapped. Deathstroke turned apologetically, angling himself between Selina and the kid with a hand on his holstered rifle that was a loud warning not to interfere. Selina tensed, ready to fight for the kid and teach Deathstroke a lesson, before she realized that anything she did, Deathstroke would punish the kid for later. Taking him on like this would be a bad mistake.

"I apologize for my apprentice's behavior. Clearly I was mistaken that he was prepared for missions. My sincerest apologies, Selina."

He held out a flash drive and she took a breath, forcing her fingers steady before she grabbed it. She leaned in so that only Deathstroke would hear and hissed, "You touch that kid again and we are going to have problems."

Deathstroke glanced down at the flash drive and chuckled. Behind them, Renegade pulled himself back to his feet. The kid's gaze never left the ground and it finally clicked why the sight of him filled her with dread; everything about him screamed terrified and subservient. She thought of Dick's mischievous smile, Jason's stubbornness, Tim's clever loopholes, Stephanie's boldness and Cassie's heart-wrenching puppy eyes that collectively let them get away with whatever they wanted. That was the way it should be.

What Deathstroke had done to Renegade was vile.

"It seems domesticity has done a number on you if you've gotten attached so quickly. However… you have my word."

"Your reputation wasn't exaggerated." She spat.

"As I am certain holds true of yours." Deathstroke answered. "Contact me when you've procured the items. Until then..."

Selina crossed her arms and leaned back against the case, watching them disappear. The flash drive was clenched in her hand so tight that her fingers were going numb. When the two were gone, she breathed in, held it until her lungs screamed, and let it out. Then she tore out of the room, heading straight for her office, grabbed her purse and keys, and took off.

She needed answers, NOW. Luckily, she knew exactly where to get them. And if she could get a drink that might burn the image of Deathstroke sending the kid flying out of her head, then that was an added benefit.

* * *

Dick Grayson

The Haunt

* * *

"You look like you're going to be sick," Slade slides the barrel of his semi-automatic open to clean it. He pushes a rag and a bottle of cleaning solvent towards me and I take them numbly. I pick up a pistol from the pile of discarded weapons and my fingers start cleaning on muscle memory. I've been helping Slade clean and maintain his equipment for years; the movement is mindless and my thoughts race.

"_You'd be amazed what you can hear when they think you've changed sides."_

I trusted her. Bruce trusted her. He let Selina into our lives and told her our secrets and she's been lying to him this whole time. She's been using him. She's working for Slade and all the other villains we've been fighting.

I trusted her.

"Why didn't you warn me before?" My voice is raspy and quiet.

"You know why."

Silence falls over the armory again.

"What do I do?" The words come out as a whisper. Slade sighs.

"If you're going to take action, be very cautious. If you try to expose Selina, particularly to Wayne, you're going to want proof. You cannot expose her until you have a plausible excuse for how you came across the information."

"What do I do? Slade, please, she's… she lied to me. She lied to all of us and my family is in danger and they don't know and I can't… I can't let her get away with it!"

"Watch her. Pay careful attention to what she says, where she goes, anything that catches her interest."

"So I can't do anything?!"

I don't realize I've dropped the gun until it clatters against the table. Slade picks it up and turns it over, looking for any dents or deformations in the metal. It gives me time to get a hold of myself. I focus on breathing, filling my lungs with air and expelling it until my pulse is back to resting and the dizzy spots are gone.

"What happens now?" I ask when I actually have a grip on myself.

"For now, I think you should head home. Keep an eye on Selina over the holidays and take whatever precautions you think are necessary. At this point, training will become secondary. When I have a mission that's suitable for you to accompany me, you'll be given notice at least twenty-four hours in advance. If there is no mission, we'll meet once a week to touch base. Alright?"

"Okay."

"Good. Go home. Get some rest."

When I walk out of the armory, I feel numb again. I thought today would be bad, but I had no idea that this was how it would happen. I just wish I could figure out if it's better or worse than being locked up in the Haunt forever.

* * *

Harvey Dent / Two-Face

The Iceberg Lounge

* * *

"Kwak- you two! Do something about this!"

"Nice ta see ya too, Ozzy." Harley grinned cheerfully.

"What exactly are we meant to be doing something about?"

"That!"

The two Rogues followed the Penguin's forceful umbrella gesture to look over at the bar. Harley winced at the sight.

"Why don't you handle it? This is your establishment, after all." Two-Face pointed out.

"Me? And risk getting my face scratched to shreds? No siree!"

"Then why should we risk it, huh?" Harley crossed her arms over her chest and stuck out her bottom lip petulantly.

"We were wondering the same thing." Two-Face agreed.

The Penguin looked over his shoulder to where Catwoman was leaning over the bar, ranting furiously to the bartender with half the waitstaff hanging on to her every word. Another waitress passed by to pick up a drink, expertly avoiding the broken glass and snapped barstools in the way.

"Half-price on your next drinks."

"Now Oswald, if we're going to be doing you a favor, it's only fair that you do one for us as well."

"And we're gonna be riskin' life and limb!" Harley exclaimed.

"The very least you could do is comp tonight's tab."

"KWAK- Not a chance!"

"Ooh, look out, Blake is heading over!" Harley squealed. Oswald pinched his eyes shut, raising his umbrella like he just wanted to whack them both over the head with it. He was greedy; the thought of giving away free drinks pained him, but not as much as risking Catwoman's wrath when she was having the worst day any of them had ever seen. Especially after what she'd threatened to do to anyone who interrupted her latest scheme.

"You!" Catwoman screamed, then there was the sound of more glass breaking and a pained screech. Harley and Two-Face looked at each other and then back at the Penguin expectantly.

"Fine! Just—" He waved his umbrella in a manic gesture instead of finishing the thought, then he waddled away.

By the time Harley and Two-Face crossed the dining room and got to the bar, Catman had scampered off to tend his wounded pride and his bleeding face. Catwoman had resumed her court, with half the waitresses and the club's hostess sitting around her, listening raptly to her every word. A string of B- and C-list villains were sliding closer, listening in from a safe distance. Kiteman was the only one brave enough to take one of the bar stools and his jaw was hanging open at Catwoman's story. Sly the bartender tried to ease the bottle of vodka away from her, but she snapped at him when she caught his fingers near the bottle.

He raised his hands in surrender, grinning winningly, but when she looked away he caught Harley's eye and mouthed, "Help!"

"Who does he think he is?!" Catwoman's voice carried over the din. "I mean, what kinda sick fucker wans—"

"Heya Kitty!" Harley said soothingly, moving in to wrap her arm around her friend. "Lemme take that off your hands."

"No, no I'm in the mid—Harvey‼!" She exclaimed in drunken delight, the fury evaporating from her face.

"It's been a while Selina. As good as it is to see you, might we suggest getting you some air? Perhaps a nice glass of water?"

"Harv, you like kids! Why would'ee do somethn like that?" She asked, words slurring together. Two-Face reached down to help her up while Harley passed the mostly empty bottle to Sly behind Selina's back.

"Might we ask who you're talking about?" Harvey asked gently.

"Deatshtroke! That piece a shit thinks he can—" He missed the next words in a mumble, but she shook her head and kept going in a clearer voice, "poor kid, he can't get away witht."

"Alright, clear out! All a you, shoo! Big kids only!" Harley snapped, waving away the crowd that tried to follow them to the dining room. Together, she and Two-Face led Catwoman to her usual round booth. A pair of thrill-seeking tourists were sitting there, drinking Sly's signature electric-blue margaratias. Two-Face bared an unfriendly smile at them and they took the hint, running off with the star-struck air of fans who'd just met a celebrity than terrified civilians who'd been threatened by a supervillain.

Both Harvey and Two-Face grimaced disgustedly. Tourists.

"Alright, Catty, spill! What got into you? I ain't seen ya like this since Catman ruined your score on that big kitty statue."

Harvey flinched at the mention of the eighteenth dynasty lioness statue uncovered from Tutankhamun's tomb and brought to Gotham on loan from the British Museum. Everyone had known it was Catwoman's to steal… until Blake got it in his head that he deserved it. In the chaos, Blake escaped, Gotham's Finest discovered one of Catwoman's lairs (including a hundred thousand dollars in stolen art), and Catwoman ended up laying low in Indonesia until the heat died down. Any mention of that incident was usually met with a claw in the face… but Catwoman didn't even seem to notice.

"Deathstroke."

"That asshole!" Harley spat, instantly equal parts supportive and clueless. "What'd he do?"

Catwoman shook her head like she was trying to clear out the bottle of vodka she'd downed. Neither Harvey nor Two-Face had ever seen her look distressed. Cornered by Batman and the GCPD with an eighty-story drop between her and freedom? She wouldn't bat an eye.

But now she shook her head, mouth opening and closing with tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

"There's a kid." She said, voice shaking.

"What?" Harley asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Deathstroke had a kid with him. His apprentice."

"An apprentice?" Two-Face asked, intrigued.

"Like a kid, kid?" Harley pressed. Catwoman's head snapped up, eyebrows furrowed in an unsteady frown.

"You din know?" She slurred. Two-Face and Harley shook their heads. "What? But… but you have to know something… you have to know! Why did he do it?!"

"Start at the beginning." Harvey said, unconsciously reliving his days of being the district attorney walking an eyewitness through their testimony. "Tell us everything you saw."

Harley nodded vigorously. Catwoman took a breath, steadied herself like she was about to go free diving without a parachute, and told them everything.

* * *

Two-Face's Lair

* * *

"She's getting soft." Two-Face insisted for the two hundred and twenty second time. Harvey frowned disapprovingly.

"She was caught off-guard. It's understandable." He told his other half. Two-Face let out a derisive huff and flipped the scarred coin over his fingers.

"A boner is understandable. Getting shitfaced over a brat being slapped around? Pathetic."

Harvey rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to remind Two-Face of the time they'd blacked out because Twenty-Two Jump Street, the potential sequel to an action-adventure blockbuster, had been cancelled. Two-Face hadn't been able to find any network executives to point a double barrel at and had instead turned to a large case of double malt scotch.

"Remember the bad abuse cases we used to handle?" He said. "There's nothing that can prepare you for them. We've never seen her like that before."

"Because she's getting soft. Ol' Brucie must be rubbing off on her."

Harvey sat up in indignation.

"Don't talk about Bruce that way."

"Ooh, did I hit a nerve, Mr. Harvard?"

"Bruce is a good man." Harvey returned.

"And an even better mark." Two-Face crowed. "All those billions, we could've taken it all from him. One job, hit the manor and make him sign it all away."

"Bruce was a good friend. Besides, we had that discussion and I seem to recall you losing that coin toss."

"Maybe we should get a brat." Two-Face said, changing the topic instead of admitting to being such a sore loser. Harvey felt his frown deepen.

"That's never going to happen."

"Fifty-fifty chance." His other half reminded him in sadistic glee at Harvey's outrage.

"No, not fifty-fifty, because even you don't really want that. What the hell would you do with a sidekick?"

"Kick him around!" Two-Face laughed. "Come on, just imagine it. We get a brat, splash some acid on 'em and make a little mini-us. You teach him all that ethical goody-goody bullshit and I show him all the fun stuff, like how to pump a Bat full of lead!"

"You want us to bring in another mouth to feed and clothe, waste our valuable time on and lose money on? You want something to hit, get a punching bag." Harvey answered sourly.

"Then we're getting a punching bag." Two-Face agreed, abandoning the idea quickly enough to prove he didn't mean it. Harvey rolled his eyes again.

"We don't need one."

"Flip for it." Two-Face flicked the scarred coin into their unscarred hand.

"Fine." Harvey agreed. With a flick of their thumb, the coin was in the air. It turned over and over, hitting the peak of its arc and then dropping back into their palm.

"Dammit!" Two-Face growled.

"We don't have space for it anyway," Harvey placated him.

* * *

Poison Ivy

Arkham Asylum

December 18th, 2012

* * *

"Good day, Ivy."

"Ugh. What do you want, Freeze?"

"Doctor Freeze, if you don't mind."

"Whoops. My bad." Poison Ivy held his gaze as she dragged her nail buffer across her fingernails. "What do you want, Freeze?"

Dr. Freeze sighed.

"I have received word from our… mutual friends. They've sent the instructions for the next stage of the plan."

"Oh for Gaia's sake, those egomaniacs still haven't finished their plan?"

"Now Ivy—"

"Ugh, shut up Victor! They had you and all those other frostbitten idiots stage that big thing, what was it, nine months ago? Then six months later, they told me the "last part" of their stupid plan was for me to attack the entire planet with vines, only for those the Justice League and their brats to blow up my baby and send me here! I had to work with that stupid fucking clown for three days! I put up with him for three days! And for what?"

"The plan is nearing completion—"

"Who cares? Freeze, what's the point? I mean, come on! I let Lex fucking Luthor tell me what to do! I promise you, that is NOT happening again. Be real for a second; do you care at all about any of this?"

Freeze hesitated.

"The Light will bring the Justice League to their knees."

"Yeah, yeah, they've been saying that for years. Come on, Victor, do you give even a single shit about the Justice League?"

"Batman is on the League." He pointed out weakly.

"Batman is also on the corner of Seventh and Livingston beating the shit out of Falcone's enforcers five nights a week. You can kill him and bring the city to its knees without ever leaving Gotham."

"…"

"You just don't want to admit I'm right."

"Because you're not." Freeze glared stubbornly.

Poison Ivy raised an eyebrow. Freeze sighed, shoulders slumping. She kicked out the chair next to her and he sat down wearily, the back of his temperature-control helmet knocking against the wall with a clang.

"Perhaps it would be a good idea to refocus."

"Exactly. I mean, how long has it been since you've made any progress on Nora?"

Freeze froze, a guilty look on his face that meant Ivy had hit the exposed nerve just right.

"It appears you might be correct after all. I have allowed my focus to stray from what truly matters; finding a cure for my Nora."

"And…" Poison Ivy prompted, holding out a hand to examine the nails in a better light.

"And killing the Batman."

"And…"

"Plunging Gotham into an eternal winter."

Ivy smiled like a Venus fly trap that just caught lunch; sickly sweet and far too many teeth not to be unsettling.

"I knew you were in there somewhere under all that Secret Society… Sinister… Light… Cold-Villain… whatever, you know what I'm saying. Their plan sounded good; all of us working together to finally bring down the League once and for all, getting rid of every hero in the same strike. We gave it a try, did that whole teamwork thing, turns out we were right and it was a stupid idea all along."

"Indeed."

"All that matters is Gotham. And Gotham's ours."

"Isley. You have a phone call." Nurse Margo announced, entering the common room with a clipboard. The slender blonde woman reminded her of Harley, but it was her willingness to trade bribes for privileges that made her a favorite among the patients.

"Who's it from?" Ivy asked. The nurse rolled her eyes.

"Take a guess."

Ivy's eyes lit up. A call from Harley was exactly what she needed to break free from Arkham's endless monotony.

* * *

"You'll never guess what happened!" Harley's voice squawked over the receiver.

"What?"

"Guess!"

"I don't know Harley, what?"

"Catty came by the Iceberg last night!" Harley said excitedly. Ivy's eyes widened. That was interesting.

"Really? Things not working out with Mr. Moneybags?"

"No, that's just it! It wasn't about Wayne at all!"

"Then what?"

"You know that guy Deathstroke the whatever-inator?"

"Mmmm…. nope."

"Big guy? Black and orange? Lotsa guns, one eye, kinda looks like a pirate but talks like James Bond? The spy talk, not the accent."

"Oh! Okay, yes. Now I remember. What does that have to do with Selina?"

"Okay, okay, it's a long story Red, so you're gonna have to stick with me. You know how Catty's been 'working at the museum' so Bats thinks she's gone legit while she's boning Brucie?"

"You mean how she's working at the museum to get access to their archives and security system?" Poison Ivy raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, yeah, same dif. But you know about it?"

"Of course."

"Okay, so it's like this. She's at the museum last night 'working late,'" Ivy couldn't see Harley's face over the phone, but she could hear the stage wink from miles away. "And she hears someone sneaking up on her, so she turns around and guess who it is?"

"Death—"

"Nope! Not Batman! Deathstroke!"

Ivy resisted the urge to sigh. The urge to point out that she'd guessed it paled in comparison to her desire for Harley to actually get through her story. Instead, she mock-gasped loudly.

"No!"

"Right! I mean, what's he doin' there? He doesn't live in Gotham. He doesn't like art museums. The museum's closed. There's plenty of other museums in the city. Was he there for sightseeing? Did he want a private tour? Was he lost and trying to find the bathroom? Was he—"

"I get it, Harls!" Ivy interrupted, knowing that line of thought could go for a very long time. And while she normally enjoyed Harley's chattering, she was actually curious. Deathstroke hadn't been seen in Gotham in years; big names… or at least, as big as you could get without being a Rogue… coming into the city usually meant something interesting was happening. Not that Ivy cared, she just liked watching the fireworks from afar.

"So there's Selina, pissed as hell cause he's sneaking up on her and she thinks maybe he's stepping on her territory. But then he says he wants to hire her."

Ivy grinned at the reminder. In true Rogue fashion, Catwoman had threatened extreme and severe bodily, mental and emotional harm to anyone who bothered her or risked her cover while she played house with Wayne. Even though the thought of it repulsed her, Ivy admired Selina for bagging a multi-billionaire for a trophy boyfriend. She could respect the sensitive nature of her latest scheme and understood that Catwoman was striking a delicate balance between con-artist, art thief and devoted girlfriend that required as much care as a Spanish Orchid in the harsh summer heat. Ivy had no intention of risking Catwoman's wrath, and she almost pitied Deathstroke for it.

Almost.

"Guess someone didn't get the memo."

"No, that's not it either!"

"What? What do you mean that's not it?"

"So Deathstroke says he wants to hire her and she says she's busy and to screw off. But then it turns out it was something in the museum and he was respecting her space by asking her to get it instead of just busting in himself, and he'll pay top dollar. If that'd been that, she'd've forgotten all about it."

"So what happened?"

"Well you know Catty, she knows what she's worth. So she's squeezing him for more money since he can't get anything in her museum without her say-so, and he's agreeing. Then get this, he's giving her the details and stuff and that's when she notices that there's been someone else with them the whole time."

"Who?"

"It was a kid!"

"Just a random kid that snuck into the museum?" Ivy asked, confused about how this new addition fit into the story.

"Nope! Turns out Deathstroke got himself an apprentice!"

"An apprentice? You mean, like a sidekick?"

"Yeah!"

"Huh." Ivy waited, but Harley didn't keep going. "And?"

"What do you mean 'and'?"

"And what? Was that it?"

"I mean, come on Red. Big mean guy like Deathstroke making a poor little kid do his bidding, it's no wonder Catty got so messed up about it."

Selina was messed up about something? Now that was actually news.

"You didn't say anything about that. What did she say?"

"It's not so much what she said as how fast she downed a whole fifth of vodka. Ol' Two-fers and I had to drag her away from the bar to get her to start talking straight."

"Harvey was there?"

"Yeah, he was askin' about you. Harvey, not Two-Face, he wanted me to make sure you knew that. I was gonna bring Catty to the Hacienda to sleep it off but he said he'd take care of her. He wasn't foolin' anyone though, he just wanted to know more about the kid. You know how he gets when something gets in both sides of his head."

Ivy snorted. "Better than anyone."

"Anyway, you should'a heard Catty going on about the whole thing. You know Wayne's got a buncha brats, I think that's why it hit her so bad. It's a pretty common psychological phenomenon, you know."

"Back up for a second. Deathstroke's sidekick is how old?"

"Catty couldn't tell! She said he was tiny, like barely up to her shoulder, and looked like he expected Deathstroke to hit him any time he breathed."

"What?!" Ivy screeched, horrified by the new information. "He's actually a kid?!"

"That's what she said!"

Ivy stared at the receiver.

"I know!" Harley exclaimed, caught up in the story. "Get this, at one point, the kid took too long to move so Deathstoke hit him into the wall! He cracked the drywall with the kid's face, I mean, how fucked up is that?‼‼‼"

"Extremely. Any idea who the kid is?" Another terrible thought struck her. "Wait… is it his kid?"

"Who knows?! But I've been doing some thinking and I don't think it could be. Two-Face thinks the kid's from the system. Not even the shittiest parents are gonna let that happen. In cases like this, the abuser has a psychological need to assert dominance over the victim, which usually manifests in emotional abuse if it's a parental relationship. But from what Catty said, it's clearly not just emotional abuse so that makes the possibility of a blood relation wayyyyy less likely. Especially since the abuse is occurring in public, usually if the father is being abusive it stays in the home. You know, it actually reminds me of a case study we did back in med school, where this guy, we didn't know his name cause its all sealed records, got in trouble for—"

Ivy tried to get a word in, but it was no use. Harley had gone full psychiatrist mode, and that meant it would be literally impossible to get her to change topics until she'd gotten everything out of her system. Ivy was already losing interest. Catwoman got freaked out because a horrible man was abusing a child. It wasn't exactly shocking; men were monsters. Besides, why bother to panic? Deathstroke had stupidly brought his apprentice to Gotham, which meant it was almost guaranteed they'd cross paths with Batman. As much as she hated Batman, she did respect his drive to protect children.

It was a win-win. Batman would find out, save the kid, and then Ivy wouldn't have to hear about any of it anymore.

Now if only Harley would stop going on about it. She'd hang up, but if she did, the water works would start and then Harley wouldn't call back for weeks. No matter the topic, Harley was infinitely better company than any of the other lunatics.

* * *

Arkham Asylum

December 19th, 2012

* * *

"You look terrible, my dear."

"Crane, I will literally stab you."

"I live in fear of the day," the man winked. Ivy rolled her eyes. "I take it your phone call was a long one?"

"She would not stop talking about Deathstroke and his stupid new brat."

"His what?"

"Call her about it, I'm sick of the whole thing."

"Come now, Ivy, you must have something to share."

"Fine. But anyone else who wants to know hears it from you or calls Harley themselves."

"A worthy agreement."

"Alright, so here's what happened."

* * *

Ricky Mills, Orderly at Arkham Asylum

Tuesday, December 24th, 2012

* * *

"Hey Mills, shift's up."

"Thanks Rodney. Hope you brought ear plugs."

"They're seriously still talking about it?"

"Yep."

"It's been weeks."

"Yep."

"God I hate them all."

"Get in line, pal. Are we going to see you this weekend?"

"Can't. I'm picking up an extra shift in the city."

"You sure? The guys are coming in from Metropolis. Should be a fun one."

"Wish I could. Tell Dave happy birthday for me."

* * *

Saturday, December 28th, 2012

Gotham Lanes

* * *

"You heard anything about Deathstroke?" Dave asked. Mills rolled his eyes over the clatter of pins and cheers from a strike in the next lane.

"The apprentice thing? The psychos won't shut up about it. Almost three weeks now and it's still all they're talking about."

"You think the heroes are gonna do anything about it?" Aaron asked, pouring himself more beer from the pitcher on the table.

"At some point, sure, but who's going to take that on?" Mills shrugged.

"Any of them could." Dave answered.

"Well they could, but Deathstroke isn't any of their regulars. They've all got their own crazies to worry about."

"That's a good point." Vishal said, picking up a neon green ball from the ball return and stepping up to the lane.

"Hey, but there was that thing in Europe a couple of months ago. The whole League was involved from what I heard. That must make him a big fish." Stu pointed out. Lawrence gestured his agreement with a half-eaten chicken wing and added, "They must want some blood for that. I mean, the guy took out three square blocks of the city."

"Maybe they're busy." Bobby shrugged, entering Vishal's 7/10 split into the terminal. "It's not like he's an easy person to find. I'm sure they'll take him out the next time he shows up. Jeff, lane's yours."

"Bob's got a point. It's probably not worth the effort to hunt him down when he'll have to show his face sooner or later."

"I wonder where he found the kid." Jeffrey added, staring at the lane over the top of his bowling ball as he tried to line up the perfect shot.

"I bet he killed his parents." Aaron nodded.

"Nah, that might leave a trail. I bet he found the kid on the streets." Vishal countered.

"Might not leave a trail if he played it right. I have a cousin in Texas, he works for Immigration Control. You wouldn't believe the number of parents who sneak their kids in and get themselves deported. If Deathstroke went down south, he'd have his choice of pickings from the detainment centers."

* * *

The Parasite

Metropolis Penitentiary

Sunday, December 30th, 2012

* * *

"Well Deathstroke's got plenty of contacts in Immigration. All he has to do is send ICE after the parents and everyone denies the kid ever existed," a blond man said while throwing a baseball. He was tall enough to tower over everyone else in the yard, but he was stick thin and looked a hell of a lot like a toothpick.

"Not like anyone cares." The bearded man caught the baseball in a worn-out mitt. He threw it back to the taller man.

"I wonder how long ago he picked him up?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if it was me, I'd wait a few years. Once you grab the kid, you have to wait for everything to cool down. Say there's an investigation, or the parents get desperate enough to hire an investigator."

The bearded man shook his head vigorously.

"There's no way he's got parents. Orphans are way easier to make disappear. The Terminator knows that."

"See, that's why he would've gone after an immigrant. The kid doesn't speak the language, the parents have no rights, perfect target."

"Or he grabs a kid from a shelter or off the streets and they skip town."

"But that's so much riskier."

"Yeah, well that's why he waited so long to bring the kid out with him."

Parasite smirked, crossing his arms and leaning back against the bench. It had taken him a little while to connect the dots, but once he had, it was obvious. The trick had been waiting for the right moment… with the right audience. There was nothing special about the men throwing a ball in the prison yard, but it was the perfect setup to become the center of everyone's attention.

"You're both wrong." Parasite corrected with a sly grin. The men stopped throwing the ball and turned to look at him sourly.

"What do you know about it?"

"More than you."

"And how's that?"

"I met him."

The yard fell silent. Everyone's eyes were on them and Parasite grinned at the attention. It was too easy.

"What?" The tall guy said stupidly.

"He ran. Somehow he gave Deathstroke the slip, tried making his way through Europe. I knew he was running from someone and he was getting desperate by the time we crossed paths at the circus I was using."

"How do you know it was him?" Someone asked curiously.

"I took his powers. I wondered how a circus brat could get his hands on an accelerated growth serum. Took me a while, but I haven't tasted anything like it since Deathstroke. Exactly the same."

"So who is he?"

"Yeah, where'd he find him?"

Murmurs of agreement broke out, all the prisoners desperate for something interesting. Nobody knew who Deathstroke's apprentice was. Information like what Parasite had was priceless.

"Mark my words; Deathstroke grabbed the kid off a travelling show. He's a circus brat all the way through."

* * *

"What do you want, Brown?" Parasite asked impatiently at the man currently attempting to corner him.

"Deathstroke's apprentice, you said he was a circus brat."

"Yeah, I did. And it's the truth."

"What circus?" Cluemaster asked.

"What? The hell are you talking about?"

"The circus you were using to steal a particle accelerator. Tell me which one!" Cluemaster growled. Parasite raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. Cluemaster was a has-been from Gotham city, five years into a twelve-year sentence; Parasite went toe-to-toe with Superman on a regular basis. The hell did he think he was doing?

"Why should I?"

Cluemaster grabbed Parasite's shirt and shoved him against the wall.

"Because you don't want everyone in here to know that a kid was the one to catch you and foil your plans, Deathstroke's apprentice or not." He hissed quitely.

"You don't know anything. You're making it up." Parasite glared.

"You want to bet? I hear the things you're not saying. You had Batman and Superman in here to interrogate you, they wanted to know who caught you. If it'd been either of them, you'd have been bragging about it the whole time, but for some reason your capture is a complete mystery. You're embarrassed that you got the shit beaten out of you by a kid."

Dammit. Brown knew too much, nosy bastard.

"What do you want?"

"Tell me the name of the circus."

"Fuck you. It's Haly's, alright? Owned by—"

"Jack Haly." Cluemaster frowned, his fists shaking. "The kid… what was his act?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"Tell me what his fucking act was!" Cluemaster screamed, shaking him. Spit flew out of his mouth and he pressed his fists in deeper.

"Trapeze!"

FUCK!" Cluemaster shouted, dropping Parasite and slamming his fist into the wall. The instant he did, alarms started blaring and red lights flashed. Cluemaster didn't notice, too wrapped up in his rage. "FUCK! FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK THAT FUCKING PIECE SHIT I'M GOING TO KILL HIM! HE'S GOING TO FUCKING PAY FOR-"

That was as far as he got before a guard tazered him in the back and he went down twitching and screaming.

* * *

Let's take a step back for a second.

Bruce Wayne

Wayne Manor

December 18th, 2012

* * *

Bruce was waiting outside when the car service pulled up to the manner. As soon as the car stopped, the door flew open and Selina threw herself at him. Bruce caught her, some of the worry evaporating just at the fact of having her in his arms. When she'd called at two in the morning asking him to send a car, sounding blackout drunk and absolutely frantic, he'd feared the worst. Selina was a world-class thief, and he'd only seen her shaken a handful of times. This was unlike anything he'd ever seen.

"Are you alright?" He asked first.

She nodded, wobbling a little on her feet.

"I'm okay, I…" she trailed off, a frown plastered on her face. After a long pause, she forced out the words like they were burning her to say, "I got scared."

"It's okay." Bruce assured her, one hand on the back of her head, pulling her in closer. She shuddered and leaned into the embrace. He felt a wet spot growing on his chest and realized she was crying.

"Let's go inside." He said gently. She pulled back, taking a watery breath and wiping her eyes away.

"Yeah."

They went to his study and closed the door tightly. Alfred had already assured them privacy, on alert to take care of the kids in case any of them wandered downstairs.

"Selina, what happened?"

Selina took in a shuddering breath and steeled herself.

"Deathstroke came to the museum."

Bruce froze. Deathstroke. First Lisbon, then the attack on the team, now this. He had to be dealt with.

"What did he want?"

"He congratulated me; he thought I was running a con on you and that it was working. I just… I can't stop feeling like it was personal. Like he wanted me to know that he's watching us somehow."

Bruce took a breath, measuring his heat rate.

"As part of a contract or out of personal interest?" He asked carefully. Selina shook her head despairingly.

"I don't know. I was scared he took a contract on you but if he did, why would he come talk to me? But if it's not a contract, why would he care? Bruce, what's going on? None of it makes sense and the more I think about it the worse it gets and I don't understand!"

"It's alright. We'll deal with it, okay? What else happened? Did he say why he was there?"

Selina wiped her eyes again and nodded shakily.

"He hired me for a job. He wants me to steal the Colonus endowment for his client."

Bruce frowned when Selina let out a watery laugh. "At least Danika will be happy her plan is working."

"You don't have to do it, Selina."

"No, that's not the bad part. You put a tracking chip on the pieces, I deliver, Deathstroke takes it to his client, and after a week or two we set the FBI on the buyer and catch another illegal collector."

Bruce hesitated. "Then what is the bad part?"

Selina swallowed.

"Deathstroke brought his apprentice."

"His what?"

"You didn't know?" Selina asked sadly. Bruce shook his head. She nodded like she'd been simultaneously afraid of that answer and expecting it. "He's just a kid Bruce. Jesus Christ, he's a kid. I don't understand how he could do something like that. Fuck, Bruce, he didn't move. He didn't make a sound the whole time."

Tears welled up in her eyes again and Bruce squeezed her hand comfortingly.

"He hit him into the wall because he didn't move fast enough. And I didn't… I didn't do anything! I should've but I was so scared he'd just hurt the kid worse and then I just let them leave, god Bruce, I'm so sorry, that poor kid."

"We'll find him." Bruce said, eyes burning with righteous fury. "Deathstroke is incredibly dangerous, Selina. What he's done to his apprentice is not your fault, and I promise you, we will deal with him. The important thing is that you're okay."

"But I'm not! Nothing about this is okay! He came into my territory, threatened both of us, and flaunted the fact that he's abusing a kid into doing his bidding! He hit him in front of me and I did nothing!" Tears were running down her face again and Bruce's chest tightened. "And now all I can think about is the kids. What if he was threatening us? Or god forbid that he was threatening to hurt them! What if… what would I have done if it had been Dick that he hit, or Jason, or god…"

She broke off with a sob, burying her face in her hands.

"What's wrong with me?!"

"It's been a bad night, Selina. But there's nothing wrong with you. This is a perfectly understandable reaction."

"No, it's not! Bruce, I'm Catwoman. I'm a supervillain, I can… I can take care of myself, why am I sitting here crying?"

"Because you have people to protect now." Bruce said gently, his arms wrapped around her tightly. "But I promise you Selina, you are not alone. You don't have to protect them by yourself."

"I don't like it." She said petulantly, trying to pull herself back together.

"Selina," Bruce squeezed her hands gently while meeting her stare with steely determination. "Whatever Deathstroke is planning, we will figure it out and be two steps ahead of him. He won't get away with any of this."

Selina smiled sadly and then let out a humorless laugh before reaching into her pocket.

"Well, he gave me this. So, it's a starting point, if nothing else."

Bruce took the flash drive she held up before he put it down on the desk and pulled a standard-issue Wayne Tech laptop from the bottom drawer, one that ran on an entirely separate network than the rest of the manor or the Batcave. He plugged it in and let the debugging software inspect the drive.

"I already checked for viruses or malware but I figured you'd check again."

Bruce grunted an affirmative.

They sat side by side and once the decryption revealed the drive was clean, went over all the information until it was seared into their brains. It was just like Selina said. Wilson wanted her to steal the four items from the recent Colonus endowment.

"We don't know what Deathstroke's objective is. It's highly unlikely that he's just after the items. He's more than capable of taking them himself. We need more information, so you'll have to go through with it. Batman can recover the items once they've been turned over to Wilson's buyer." Bruce said, forcing himself to think rationally instead of letting his fears run rampant. He paused, weighing his option. "What are the chances you can do the drop off in public?"

"I can arrange an exchange at the Iceberg. Oswald is always more than happy to get his beak into any of my deals. Besides, after tonight, I'll need to get back into his good graces."

"Do I want to know?"

"No. You really don't." She forced a laugh out, and Bruce decided it was firmly in his best interest not to press. "What are you going to tell Robin?"

"Nothing. We need to know more. We can't risk Robin interrupting the meeting."

"And?" Selina prompted carefully after a long pause.

"I don't want Dick anywhere near Deathstroke." Bruce replied. His eyes narrowed at the memory of Aqualad's frantic call, telling them that the team had been abducted by Deathstroke, the Kid Flash had been shot and Robin rendered unconscious. Until Robin had broken free and made contact, Batman had been gripped by terror he was too late, that the League wouldn't find them in time. He'd been terrified that he'd lost his son.

Once he was home safe, Batman swore to himself that Deathstroke would never get near his son again.

Dick had been having a bad time ever since the failsafe. He was getting better, and after they finally talked, Bruce had confidence that Dick was okay, but there was a real danger if Deathstroke got near him. Deathstroke would find his weak spots and know exactly what buttons to push to really hurt him. He couldn't take that chance.

Dick would hate being left in the dark, but it was for his own good.

"I'll download the footage from the museum and go over it with the League tomorrow. Interpol is always running surveillance on Deathstroke, I can cross reference with League reports."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a couple of major things have happened. First of all, Dick is now convinced that Selina is a traitor. Second, the entire villain community knows about Renegade now. Third, Slade has made some big enemies; namely Selina and Cluemaster, who's just put two and two together that Deathstroke set him up to get leverage on his apprentice. His arrest for drug possession was one thing, but his daughter being placed in the foster system instead of going to live with his sister? His baby girl getting fostered by Bruce Wayne himself? And now Deathstroke's obedient apprentice getting revealed as a circus brat? There's no such thing as coincidence, not when all the facts line up.
> 
> In other news, Dick now has a big task ahead of him, which is to figure out how to pass along the information he's finding out as Renegade so that he can help the League without blowing his cover. What could go wrong, especially with the League on high alert and Roy joining up with the team?
> 
> Thank you for reading, and this story is now caught up with the FFN version! Stay tuned for the next chapter!


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The world is BANANAS right now. Have some fic to escape it all.

Dick Grayson

Bloomingdale's, Downtown Boston

Sunday, December 19th, 2012

* * *

The target runs.

For a guy who works as Bloomingdale's night security, he's pretty fast. The racks of clothing he pushes over leave disaster in his wake, but it won't slow either of us down.

"Go high." The voice in my comm gravels.

I nod, then launch myself into the air and onto the top of a fancy display set. From this view, I can see the target sprint into the furniture section. He's heading for the back exit. It takes me about a second to catch up to him, and then another half second to launch myself onto the high dividing wall between the main store and the show rooms. He's too focused escaping to notice me.

When I drop down right in front of him, bo staff crackling with electricity, he skids to a stop with a panicked shout.

"Nowhere to run, Sebastian." Deathstroke says, walking up behind him like he's got all the time in the world.

"W…w…what do you want?"

"I think you know exactly what I want. That's quite a lot of mess you just made." He gestures to the mess of dresses, sweaters, jackets, purses, belts, bags, shoes and fallen racks. Seriously, it looks like half the store is on the ground.

The target looks around nervously. Beads of sweat roll down his face and neck, with large sweat stains appearing on his white uniform. I see him tense up like he's about to try and make a break for it. Slade sees it too and hums condescendingly.

"I wouldn't recommend running. Renegade has been dying for a chance to test out his new staff and I certainly wouldn't want to deprive him of his fun."

Sebastian turns to look at me again and pales. He actually turns the same color as his platinum blond hair.

"Now Sebastian, this doesn't need to be difficult."

"Don't kill me! Please!"

"Kill you? Who said anything about that?"

"You… you're not here to kill me?"

"Please. If I were, you'd already be dead. No, Sebastian, I'm here because Mr. Cohen is a very generous man. But you knew that already. After all, he gave you money, helped you bury those unfortunate domestic assault charges against your girlfriend Rebecca. Stealing from him is a very strange way to show your appreciation."

"I'll repay the money! I will, I swear it!"

"Oh, I'm sure you will. But that's not why we're here."

"What do you want?!"

"You oversaw a weapons deal for Mr. Cohen about a month ago. When the shipment arrived, however, there was something missing. Would you like to guess what it was?"

Any color that was left on his face disintegrates.

"I thought it was heroin! I swear, I didn't know what it was!"

"Those vials you stole contains a very valuable formula capable of mutating a man into a superweapon. You are very fortunate not to have spilled it on yourself, as the effects are irreversible."

"Oh shit! What the hell is he doing with something like that?"

"I could tell you, but then of course I'd have no choice but to kill you."

"No no no no no! I don't wanna know! Don't kill me!"

"That's what I thought. You have two days to return all of the serum to Mr. Cohen, along with all the money. A single word to anyone, and I'll be back."

"I won't!"

"Good. Renegade, let's go."

I stow my bo staff back in its pocket and follow Slade, behind sure to push past Sebastian roughly. I don't want him dead, but I've seen his rap sheet (or at least, what would've been his rap sheet if Cohen hadn't bribed a judge into letting him off). He deserves to go to prison; he's getting off too easy.

* * *

The meeting takes place in an empty office building overlooking downtown Boston, which is a refreshing change of place from your standard evil abandoned warehouse.

"Where's my Venom?"

"On its way back to you. You were right that one of your men got light-fingered."

"Course they did. Who was it?"

"Howser."

Cohen leans back in his chair and cusses loudly enough to make his bodyguards look over.

"That kid's been more trouble than he's worth."

"He's been informed that he has two days to return the shipment to you on pain of violent dismemberment."

The mob boss scowls.

"And if he runs? Then I paid you all that money for nothing."

"If he declines to take up your generous offer, which he won't, then all you need to do is call me again. I'll clean up the mess."

"I paid you to get me my Venom back!" Cohen barks. "You took my money and gave me nothing!"

"Nothing? I tracked down your thief from only the intel you yourself said was worthless. You paid me to find it, I found it. If you want me to spend an extra day in town to retrieve it, that would double my fee, which I thought you'd be delighted to avoid. Sebastian will make his amends and you'll get your Venom, but I believe our business is concluded."

"You'd better hope you're right or…"

"I'd highly advise against you threatening me. You see, my apprentice isn't very forgiving towards people who piss me off and my patience is wearing thin."

Cohen looks at me, then turns back to Slade. I can see the wheels turning as he calculates how badly outmatched his men are and how much he doesn't want to be on Slade's bad side, before the situation diffuses. Cohen sits down and waves his hand dismissively.

"You got your money. Now get out."

"A word of advice… the venom has an amplifying effect on a subjects' mental state. If you plan to use it on one of your men, be sure to pick someone who doesn't have any unresolved grudges." He snaps his fingers and barks, "Renegade. Let's go."

* * *

"What a piece of shit." I growl, crossing my arms.

"I knew you'd think so." Slade answers. He flicks the direction light and smoothly changes lanes. Traffic is light at ten on a Sunday night but it's still going to take three hours back from Boston.

"So he just gets away with it all?"

"I thought you'd at least be relieved Cohen won't have him killed."

"I am." I let out a breath. "It just… it doesn't feel right."

"Not surprising. You did very well though."

I roll my eyes.

"I chased a security guard through Bloomingdale's. Not exactly a tough job."

"No. But you played your part well."

"Are you ever planning to tell me why small-time mob bosses are stockpiling Kobra venom?"

"Have you figured out a way to pass information without exposing yourself?"

"Since when do you care about that?"

"Since I have reason to doubt your ability to maintain your cover. Tell me, how have things been at home?"

"I'm not talking about this with you."

"As the gossip rags haven't seized the story of the Wayne/Kyle breakup of the century, I'm going to assume she's still living with him. With you. How have things been between you two?"

"Shut up."

"What was that?"

"I said, shut up. Please."

"What's your plan to expose her?" Slade presses like he didn't hear me, and I bite back a swear that I had to go and push him. Now there's no way he'll let it go.

"I'm working on it."

"Talking to Bruce didn't go according to plan did it?"

Instead of answering him, I reach for the radio dial. Before I can turn it on, Slade smacks my hand away. Hard. His hand feels like a tire iron slamming into my knuckles and my fingers feel numb when I pull them back.

"Ow!" I snap, rubbing my hand. The bruise is already starting to form and the back of my hand is turning black and blue.

"Answer the question, Richard."

"It's none of your business."

"Wrong. If you're going to be disrespectful, I see no reason why I should respect your boundaries."

"I'm sorry I was rude!" I say, forcing out the words and trying as hard as I can not to roll my eyes. "Alright? I'm sorry."

"Better. Now answer the question."

I let out a huff and cross my arms even tighter over my chest.

"I haven't talked to him yet. He's going to need proof and I don't have anything he'll believe. I mean, he waited two years after Selina said she was going clean. It's not as simple as just telling him Selina's a liar, it's telling him he was wrong."

"Batman doesn't like being wrong? Shocking." The corner of his mouth raises into a smirk. I sink lower into my seat. "Do you still intend to tell him?"

"Of course I do, I just don't know how. I don't have any proof and I can't just waltz into his study and go, 'Hey, guess what! When I was at the museum with the mercenary I'm secretly working for, I found out that Selina's been using you to steal information on Batman and the Justice League! Happy Hanukkah!"

"Have you considered any other angles?"

"I've been thinking about getting the team involved. Or the League. I know Wonder Woman doesn't like Catwoman, she'll probably look into it even if I just say Selina is giving me a bad feeling."

"That's not a bad idea at all." Slade answers. "But I do recommend that you have reasons to give her beyond simply a bad feeling. It shouldn't be hard to come up with."

"No, it's not." I agree. "But I don't think that'll be enough. I can tell the whole world I don't trust Selina, but at the end of the day Bruce is the one who invited her to move in. If I get everyone involved without talking to Bruce about it, he'll just be angry that I didn't talk to him. But I can't talk to him until I have proof. I'm stuck there. I need proof to convince Bruce."

Slade is quiet for long time. I watch the exit signs pass, the numbers counting up as we head towards Gotham City. My eyes feel heavy and all the lights on the road are starting to blur together. A yawn escapes before I can stop myself.

"You can sleep the rest of the drive." Slade says without looking over. My back tenses and I sit up.

"What?"

"It's late. You've had a long day. I'll wake you up when we get back."

"Uh…"

On one hand, I don't trust Slade enough to fall asleep while I'm alone in a car with him. The last time Slade woke me up somewhere, he'd just shot my best friend and nearly murdered the rest of my teammates. I don't want to be that vulnerable.

On the other hand… I'm exhausted. The week before Winter Break is always the worst, and I've got three pre-midterm tests, a coding project and a five-page essay due Friday. Plus, I missed the math homework and turned in two essays late last week, so I've been working even harder this week. My eyes are starting to burn from the effort of just keeping them open.

"This isn't some evil plot, right?"

Slade clicks the radio on instead of answering. Soft classical music comes on, strings, winds and soaring chords filling the car. I lean my seat back and let my head drop onto my shoulder. The car rumbles down the highway and the music is soft and fills my ears, and then the tiredness takes over.

* * *

I wake up as the car turns into the garage and pulls to a gentle stop. The sound of the engine turning off reminds me where I am.

"What time'sit?" I mutter, rubbing my eyes as I sit up.

"It's half past one."

"Mhm." I mumble, reaching over to unbuckle my seat belt. One thirty means it's too late for me to go back home to the manor, so I'll have to stay over in the Haunt tonight. It sucks, but it could be worse. I'll still get five hours of sleep, not counting having slept on the drive.

"What was your excuse for tonight?" Slade asks as we climb out of the car. I stretch my back out and listen to the cracks and pops from sleeping in a weird position.

"Sleepover with Josh." With a wince, I add, "Alfred thought it was a good idea. So… don't have to worry about Bruce checking in tonight."

"Good." Slade grabs the duffel bag with his uniform and the even bigger duffel with his weapons and slings them over his shoulder. I grab my gear bag and shut the trunk, turning to go down through the office to the Haunt. Slade is standing in the way, looking down at his watch. He looks up and nods. "Once you've put your equipment away, I have something for you."

"Why do you keep checking your watch?" I ask, yawning as I follow his down the hidden stairs. "Do you have to be somewhere?"

"Keeping an eye on the time."

"Was that a pun?" The words slip out before I can stop them. Slade stops and turns, one eyebrow raised in a decidedly unimpressed manner. Okay, note to self, no one-eye jokes. "Sheesh, sorry."

"Go put your gear away."

"Yup, on it."

I head for my room before he gets annoyed and changes his mind and decides to be an asshole. I throw the duffel bag on the bed and start pulling out Renegade's uniform. Everything is clean, since chasing a guy through a department store isn't exactly a grueling workout, so I hang it back up in the closet and throw the mask on the dresser.

The hardest part is removing all the weapons from the assorted pockets and pouches, mostly because there's so many of them. When I pull the last smoke grenades out and throw them into the duffel bag, I can't help but wonder how Slade gets the uniforms cleaned.

Between the multiple sets of Robin uniforms and the specialty washing equipment Alfred installed, I always have a clean uniform, but how does Slade clean his? What kind of dry-cleaners takes blood-stained Kevlar body armor? Unless he just washes it himself?

The thought of Slade standing over a front-loader and tossing in his uniform with the rest of his laundry is enough to make me burst out laughing. Honestly, I can't even imagine Slade doing laundry. Or any kind of cleaning. That's just another mystery I will hopefully never know the answer to.

With the bo staff added to the pile, I have all the weapons out of the uniform. Looking at the bed is a mistake; I just want to fall asleep, but the sooner I get this done, the sooner I can go to bed for real. I throw the bag over my shoulder and head for the armory. Slade is already there, stripping down his guns and cleaning them. He doesn't say anything when I walk in, just nods and keeps working. His watch is set on the table in front of him though, and he keeps looking at it.

As I put the smoke grenades, projectiles, knives and various other pointy things back into the cabinets and shelves, I catch Slade checking his watch at least six times. I won't say that it's freaking me out, but I don't like it. Is he timing me? Wouldn't he just tell me if he was?

No, of course not. He loves making my life harder.

Instead of asking why he's obsessing over his watch, I wipe down the bo staff and check the charges on the electrical component. The batteries discharge fast, so I have to replace them after every five or so charges, but I haven't had to use it on anyone since the last change.

I don't know if Slade checks how often I replace the battery packs, but I hope he doesn't notice that I've barely used it. I didn't realize until after I saw the specs, but it is a really strong charge. Anyone who gets hit is going to HURT and I don't want to do that unless I absolutely have to.

Snap the battery port closed, spray some WD-40 on the release mechanism, and test the spring-loading. It works perfectly. I put the collapsed staff on the shelf and close the cabinet with all my equipment.

When I turn around, Slade is disassembling something with a lot of small parts. He doesn't seem to notice me, which means he absolutely does see me and is ignoring me.

"So what's the thing you said you had?"

"You're done?" Slade looks up, feigning like he just noticed me. Okay, something weird is going on.

"Yup. Cleaned and put away." I cross my arms over my chest.

"Good timing. Go past the workshop, take a left and go through the doors. I'll meet you in there."

"And then you'll explain why you're being so weird?"

Slade snorts.

"It's always gratifying to see that my lessons in observation haven't gone to waste."

"Not just your lessons." I shoot back before I can stop myself.

"Of course. Wayne is the great detective after all." Slade answers mockingly. I bite down on my tongue and take a breath. Letting him bait me is a terrible idea and I know better.

"Right past the workshop and through the doors?" I ask.

"Correct."

Finding the door is easy. Figuring out how to open the next door is not. Guess I'll just wait for Slade to get here. Luckily, the door behind me opens after about a minute.

"So now are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"I think it'll be fairly obvious in a minute."

"So that's a no?"

"Correct."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're the worst?" I mutter. Slade at least looks amused by that. He unlocks the door somehow and holds it open for me.

"You're by no means the first to express that sentiment." He says. I snort.

"Maybe it's time to take the feedback to heart."

Slade just shakes his head in response, the ghost of a grin on his face.

"In."

"Fine, I'm going." I never know exactly where the line is between banter and warning, but I'm getting better at finding it. The problem is, Slade isn't actually the worst company when he's not being an evil asshole.

It's a storage room. The whole room is filled with filing cabinets and every single drawer has a padlock and a scanner pad on it. After a second, it hits me why the room has so much security; it's all evidence. This must be where Slade keeps hard copies of anything that could legally tie him to his crimes.

"I'm sure you've guessed what's in this room." Slade says, stopping in front of a cabinet and swiping his finger over the scanner pad before pulling out a set of keys. "Getting any bright ideas?"

I swallow. The denial is sticking in my throat; Slade knows as well as I do that anything in this room would be all the proof a judge and jury need to convict. He also knows that I know he would never, ever let me know this room existed if he wasn't absolutely positive I'll never be able to use it against him.

Besides, I agreed to work for him. For real this time. As much as I hate it, that means no plotting against him. When I look up, Slade is watching me carefully. His face inscrutable as he waits for an answer. Finally, I find my voice.

"No." I shake my head. "It's not worth it."

"Good." He smirks. "You wouldn't be able to get anything even if you were trying. The door lock is on a timer; it can only be opened once a day during a five-minute window that rotates on a thirty-day cycle."

I knew it. Between the door timer, multiple locks and biometric scanner, I'll never be able to break in here. But that does explain why he kept checking his watch.

"Regarding the difficulty we discussed earlier… I have something that might help." Slade pulls a file out from the top drawer of the unlocked cabinet. He passes it to me and I hesitate before taking it. There's a stack of papers inside, along with an unmarked flash drive. I glance over the papers and my heart skips a beat; it's a detailed analysis of crime reports tying Catwoman to recent burglaries and thefts.

"I called in some favors. Those are all of Catwoman's suspected activities over the past two years, in the time she was supposedly reformed. You're correct that Wayne will need proof of any accusations you might bring him. Now you have it."

"What's on the flash drive?"

"Surveillance footage from the museum."

I pick up the flash drive and turn it over.

"Am I… on it?"

Slade inclines his head in affirmation.

"The angle will make it impossible for facial recognition software to be run on it, but Renegade is visible in parts of the footage."

"I can't show that to Bruce!"

"Why not?"

"What do you mean, why not?! He'll recognize me!"

"Very doubtful."

"He's the world's greatest detective! 'Doubtful' isn't good enough!"

"Watch the video yourself. If you're still worried, then don't show him. The files alone might be sufficient proof."

How can he sound so confident about something like this? Bruce is Batman. He knows everything. He sees everything! If he sees Renegade, he'll recognize me instantly. How could he not?! He's my dad!

But Slade sounds so sure of himself. He might be an asshole and a manipulative bastard, but he's never been wrong.

"I'll look at it." I say, tucking the drive back into the file.

"You don't need to use it." Slade says offhandedly as he closes and re-locks the filing cabinet. "In fact, you don't have to expose Selina at all. But…"

He turns around and looks me right in the eye.

"I want you to understand that I will hold up my end of our new deal. And I trust you will do the same."

I match his gaze, not looking away until he breaks it first. With a gesture, he leads me out of the room and closes the door, locking away the trove of secrets behind an unbreachable barrier. That's a problem for another time. For now, there's a bed with my name on it.

"Night." I say. Slade nods in dismissal, and the second I get back to my room, it's head to pillow and lights out.

* * *

Wayne Manor

Tuesday, December 21st, 2012

* * *

It's not until I get home from school on Tuesday that I finally have time to look at the flash drive. After shaking Tim off and leaving him to do homework with Jason, I barricade myself in my room. I dig out an old laptop from under my bed and plug in the drive. The clip has no sound, but it's easy to see what's going on. When Renegade appears on screen, my heart stops.

Slade was right.

I know it's me. But… it can't be. Renegade somehow looks bigger and taller than I am, with more muscle around his chest and arms, but standing next to Deathstroke he looks almost insignificant in comparison. I mean, I do. It's me. It's me wearing heavy body armor and steel-tipped boots.

But it's the face that I can't look away from. I never realized how the weird mask sits on my face, but it makes everything look longer and sharper. Maybe it's the shadows or the lighting or the weird angle or the fact that it covers more of my face than a domino mask, but no matter how long I stare, I can't recognize myself.

It's not me. But it is me. It's a version of me that I don't recognize… a look at what my future will be.

I can't get away from Slade. Our new deal is the best possible outcome, the one way that guarantees nobody I care about will get hurt. But I'm still stuck with him. I'm stuck playing a part I don't recognize and it makes me sick to my stomach that someday I might look in a mirror and Renegade will be the only face that looks back.

I'm on my feet before I can talk myself out of it. The sooner I get this over with, the better. I spent all day in class reading through the files and memorizing all the jobs Selina almost got away with in the last few years. I can't let this go on any longer than it already has.

The knocking sound echoes through the hall, pulling me back to myself. I have to focus.

"Do you need something?" Bruce calls. I take that as my cue to ease the door to his study open.

"Uh… Bruce? Can we talk?"

"Of course."

Bruce doesn't say anything while I walk in and sit in one of the chairs opposite his desk. He just waits for me to start, which is great and all except now I have to figure out how to say what I need to without blowing everything.

"It's about Selina." Bruce frowns but doesn't interrupt. I take a deep breath. "I want her out."

"What?"

"I don't trust her."

"Did something happen?"

"She's using you."

"Excuse me?"

My mouth feels dry and I can feel my palms get sweaty.

"Selina's using you."

Bruce's frown has disappeared and his face is an unreadable mask.

"In what way is she using me?"

"Bruce, you can't trust her. It's not safe to have her here, she needs to go."

"Dick."

"I want her out. I don't want her in the house, or near you, and I want her away from Jay and Tim and Steph and Cass. She needs to go!"

"Dick, you need to calm down."

"I am calm!"

"You're acting hysterical. Take a breath and explain to me exactly how you think Selina is using me."

"She's using you to get information! She's been lying the whole time, Bruce! She never went clean."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because it's true!"

"Dick, do you have proof or is there something else going on? Is everything okay at school?"

"This isn't about me! It's about Selina!"

"What do you think she's doing?"

"She's using you for information! Are you even listening to me?!" I shout.

"Of course, I'm listening to you!" Bruce snaps, his hands pressing into the desk. "All I'm asking for is a reason. Just give me one reason why you don't trust Selina."

"Because she's using you!"

"To do what?! How is she using me?"

"She's working with the Light."

The study goes silent. Even the clock stops ticking. Bruce just stares.

"Do you have proof?" Bruce asks, his voice quiet but sturdy. I don't know how he has the self-control to keep the words from shaking.

"Security footage from the GMA." I answer, trying to keep my own voice steady. The flash drive in my pocket feels like a lead weight when I pull it out and place it gingerly on Bruce's desk like it's about to explode. Bruce looks down at the drive, his face an unreadable mask. But before I can work up the courage to say anything, he's plugging it into his computer and watching the video feed play.

Selina and Deathstroke are easy to see in the footage, and even though there's no sound, it's unmistakable that they're talking casually. Selina looks as relaxed and in-control as she did that night, and it makes my stomach turn.

"She's working with him." I say, when the Deathstroke onscreen hands Selina a flash drive and Bruce still hasn't moved. He hasn't even blinked. "Whatever's on that drive is part of one of their plans. She's using us, Bruce. I'm sorry, but she's using you. I have other proof too; I've found fifteen robberies she committed in the last two years when she said she'd gone clean. I can pull up the case files right now."

"Where did you get this footage?" Bruce interrupts. That's when I realize he still hasn't looked away from the screen and that the frown on his face keeps getting deeper. Something's not right. I swallow and try not to choke on the shards of glass in my throat.

"From the museum's system. I found a backdoor and copied the clip."

Bruce frowns, looking up at me. His eyes are narrowing into his detective glare, the one he uses when he's just found the clue that will crack the case wide open.

"No you didn't."

"What are you talking about?"

"Selina is setting up a temporary exhibit in the north portrait gallery. I've been in that room dozens of times for fundraising events; the camera has the left corner of _"Blue Danube" _in the frame but the doorway is visible. The camera is also pointed down at a twelve degree angle from eight inches below the height of the ceiling. To get that exact shot, the camera would be exactly where the east-facing window is."

"I got it off the server." I protest.

"That footage didn't come from the museum's security cameras." Bruce stands up. I've seen him terrorize criminals just by looming over them hundreds of times, but it always feels different when I'm the one he's looming over.

He doesn't look angry, but he's not happy. He knows I'm lying. He knows.

"I…"

"Where did you get it?"

"I…"

"If you want me to be able to trust anything you have to say, you need to answer me honestly. Where did you get that video?"

"I'm not the one you should be interrogating! Selina's the mole! She's planning to rob the museum!"

"I already knew about this." Bruce answers slowly. "She told me the night it happened. And as far as the robbery goes, it's a part of a much bigger plan to lead the FBI to high profile art thieves."

"What?"

"Selina is not the mole."

"No, you're wrong."

"Where did you get that footage?"

"Why aren't you listening to me?!"

"Tell me where it's from!" Bruce shouts.

"It doesn't matter!"

"Then I'm supposed to sit back while you hurl around outrageous accusations?! Dick, I've heard enough!"

"Bruce! You can't trust her!"

"If there's someone I can't trust right now, it's not Selina."

I step back.

"You can't be serious."

"Give me a reason to trust you."

"I'm your partner." I say.

"So is she."

"Bruce."

"Dick. Either tell me where you got that footage, or go to your room."

* * *

Artemis Crock

Gotham Academy

Wednesday, December 22nd

* * *

"And that's the bell! Have a really great winter break. Merry slash happy Christmas, Hannukah, Kwanza, Ramadan, Festivus or other holidays that you celebrate." Mr. Torcado said cheerfully.

Artemis packed her folders into her bag and checked her phone. No new texts from either the Team or the League. As guilty as she felt for thinking it, she was glad for the break. Even with all the League's medical magic and the physical therapy Green Arrow was making her do, her knee was still killing her and after a string of bad missions, she wasn't complaining about a little time off.

"Did you bring lunch?" Babs asked Bette.

"No, I was going to buy a sandwich."

"What about you, Dick?"

"Uh… you guys go ahead, I have to talk to Mr. Torcado for a second."

Babs frowned.

"You didn't miss another homework, did you?"

"It's fine."

"Dick, come on. Two meetings in the same day?"

"Babs, it's fine. I'll be down in a few minutes."

Artemis frowned. Nick raised his eyebrow and stared at them.

"Come on. We should go before the lines get too long." He said, and they all hesitantly followed him. Artemis took two steps out the door before she paused and turned around to stare at Dick. If she had to explain exactly what it was that made her stop, she wouldn't have been able to, but as soon as she really looked at Dick, her feet cemented themselves to the ground. She couldn't have walked away if she wanted to.

"Babs, wait." She put her hand on Babs' arm before the younger girl could follow their friends to the cafeteria. "Something's wrong."

Babs stiffened, eyes locking on Artemis' face like an empty lifeboat in the wreckage of the Titanic.

"You think so too?"

Artemis nodded.

"He's acting weird. Especially last week, he was really freaking me out. It seems like everything is just getting worse."

"What do you mean?"

"When we were working on our homework, I tried to give him back his pen and he told me to keep it. But the way he said it was like… he was leaving."

"What do you mean, he was leaving?"

Artemis sighed.

"He said it was something to remember him by. He said it was just a joke but it freaked me out. You don't think he's… you know, going to…" Artemis felt her chest tightening and tried to get the words out anyway. "…I don't know… hurt himself?"

"He hasn't been acting like himself." Babs frowned, pulling her arms tighter around herself. "I mean, he's skipping homework and last week, he didn't turn in either of his English essays on time."

"Look, it's going be alright, Dick." Mr. Torcado's voice effortlessly carried out of the room, making them both look over. "Your average is high enough that a few late homeworks won't take off more than a percent or two. After we come back from break, make sure to plan ahead so you get your work in on time and really study hard for the midterm. If you do that, and by the end of the year you're on the edge of a letter grade, come talk to me again. Alright?"

They couldn't hear Dick's response.

"It's going to be alright. You've got this." Mr. Torcado said kindly.

"Yeah, thanks." Dick said, voice glum as he left the room. He jumped when he saw them standing there, his hand flying up to rub the wetness out of his eyes. "You guys didn't have to wait."

"Of course we did. We're your friends." Babs answered.

"What was that about?" Artemis blurted out.

"I missed a homework. Don't worry about it." Dick looked away. "Come on, let's go get lunch before the lines get any worse."

He started down the hall, but neither of them followed him.

"Is everything okay, Dick?" Babs asked.

"It's fine." Dick stopped, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Okay, it's clearly not fine." Artemis frowned.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"But something happened?" Babs pressed.

"Just leave me alone."

"Okay, cut the miserable loner act. You're clearly having a bad time and we're your friends. Tell us what's wrong."

"I'm not doing this with you!" Dick snapped. Artemis took a step back at the sudden anger. "I've already messed up enough stuff, please just go away before I hurt you guys too."

"No." Babs frowned.

"Babs, please."

"No." She repeated. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm sorry you're having a bad time but you're an idiot if you think you can get rid of me that easily."

"It was my fault. It's all my fault. Everything is my fault and I thought I had it under control but everything is falling apart and it's my fault!"

"It's gonna be okay. I'm not going anywhere."

"Me either." Artemis added. "Dick, you can talk to us. What happened?"

Dick's shoulders slumped over and he looked around before heading for an empty classroom. Artemis followed him in and Babs shut the door behind them. Dick sat in one of the chairs, leaning his head in his hands.

"I had a fight with Bruce."

"Oh, Dick." Babs put her arms around him and Dick accepted the hug with his eyes squeezed shut.

"What happened?" Artemis asked, crouching next to them.

"It's Catwoman."

Artemis and Babs looked at each other. Whatever they'd been expecting, it wasn't that.

"What?"

"Bruce's girlfriend. I just found out she's Catwoman."

Artemis choked.

"Your dad is dating Catwoman?!"

Babs shot her a glare.

"Is that what you were fighting about?"

"He doesn't care." Dick nodded miserably. "He thinks I'm just making stuff up to get rid of her."

"He didn't believe you?" Babs asked.

"No! It's… it's complicated. He already knew she was Catwoman, but he really believes she's gone clean. I don't know what to do! If I say something again, he'll get mad at me for not trusting him to date who he wants. But she's living in my house! She takes Cassie to preschool! She's been lying to me the entire time I've known her!"

Artemis reeled back.

"Dick, I'm so sorry. That's terrible."

"I don't know what to do." Dick repeated, lost in thought. "No matter what I do, everything keeps falling apart. And just when I think I have a way to fix it, it just gets worse! It's too much! Every single one of my classes gives so much work and I have to do what S… for my internship, I can't quit. It's just too much work for one person."

"Can you take a break?" Babs asked. "Just take some time to focus on school?"

"Babs, you know how important my internship is."

Babs nodded seriously.

"What's your internship?" Artemis asked.

"I work with a public defender." Dick answered. "It's really important to me. We help people."

Artemis felt a new sense of admiration for her friend. Dick was a freshman taking the coursework of an upperclassman while spending his time working to help the people who were most vulnerable. She'd dealt with the criminal justice system enough to know how tirelessly public defenders worked. They might not be superheroes, but they were heroes all the same.

"If I could just… if it was just one less thing, I'd be okay. But right now it's just everything. There's so much work and I'm falling behind and my job has crappy hours and now Selina turns out to be Catwoman and Bruce thinks I'm making up problems to screw with him! I can't do this anymore!"

"It's gonna be okay." Babs assured him. Dick sniffed and wiped at the tears on his face.

"And whatever you need, we'll always help you." Artemis added.

"You guys are really good friends but… I don't think there's anything you can do."

"Yeah there is." Babs said. Dick looked at her in surprise. "I promise, I can help."

"I can too." Artemis said. There wasn't anything she could do about being overworked, but Catwoman? That was a problem a hero could definitely fix. If she had Wayne fooled, that was one thing. But if Batman knew one of the League's biggest donors was being conned by a supervillain, he could shut it down in an instant. All she had to do was tell Batman what Catwoman was up to.

Easy.

And then Dick would finally be able to catch a break.

* * *

Dick Grayson

Mount Justice

Friday, December 24th, 2012

* * *

"Artemis, how's your knee?"

"Better. Still hurts. How's your throat?"

"It's fine. You here for Canary or the medbay?" I ask.

"I was actually going to watch a movie with Zatanna." Artemis says. There's a little too much hurt in her voice; spending time at the cave used to be fun. Somewhere along the line that changed for me, especially since I still haven't figured out what the hell to say to M'gann. Or Wally. They're going to be so angry and I'm not ready to face either one of them. "What about you?"

"Canary. She thinks I need to talk about… you know…" I wave my hand around and trail off, gesturing to the metaphorical shitstorm we've all been through this year. Artemis laughs.

"Yeah, I'm supposed to do that tomorrow. Lucky for me, she's been cutting me slack since I'm stuck walking at the speed of smell."

"What speed is that?" I ask.

"I guess slow? Never really thought about it." She whacks me on the arm. "And now I'm over-thinking it. Thanks a lot, bird brain!"

"All in a day's work." I grin. "I should get going though."

"Come on, Rob, it's the holidays. Stay! Hang out. Watch a sadistic child terrorize a pair of burglars with me and Zee."

"That's a great way to describe Home Alone. Also, it's Zee and I."

"You're a massive nerd. I hope you know that."

We both laugh.

"Seriously, you should stay. It seems like Batman's been working you really hard lately."

"You know how he is." I shrug. "It's really fine though. Besides, I have a thing tonight. We'll watch movies about violent children next time, I promise."

"I'll hold you to that." Artemis grins.

"See ya!" I wave. As soon as she turns, I check my watch. Crap! M'gann's going to be out of her session with Canary any minute, and I can't deal with that fallout right now. Running without looking like you're running is hard and looks pretty stupid, but I think I manage it okay. At least until I bump into the person coming out of the still-whirring Zeta tube.

"Whoa, Rob, what's the rush?"

"Red Arrow? What are you doing here?"

"Long time no see." Roy answers, raising his eyebrow. "Are you leaving?"

"I… yeah, well… I was but… what are you doing here?"

"I thought you'd have heard by now."

"Heard what?"

"I'm joining the Team."

"What?"

"I thought it was time. Um… I thought you would have been a little happier to hear that."

I frown.

"Why should I care what you do?"

"Because we're friends?"

Friends?

"Are we? You haven't said a word to me since you accused my teammates of being traitors."

"Rob, that's not fair."

I turn on him. My heart pounds and I think about everything we've been through this year, everything I've given up or had taken away from me.

"Fair? You think life is fair?! I think that ship has sailed for us." I turn towards the zeta tube, ready to end it there, but things are bubbling to the surface. All the resentment and anger and hurt that's been building since Roy turned his back on us. I whirl around, shooting him with a furious glare. "And by the way, I'm still waiting for an apology for what you said about us back when the team formed. You know, I was so excited that the League was finally giving us a chance and I wanted you to be a part of it. I wanted to fight alongside you just like we used to when it was you, me and KF. And what did you do? You threw it all back in my face! Even after everything we went through our friendship didn't mean anything to you."

Roy shakes his head at me, mouth hanging open. He lets out a disbelieving huff.

"How could you think that?!"

"Are you kidding me? You haven't been here, Red Arrow. You only show your face when you need something from us and you've taken every single chance to try and tear apart what this team built! You've so desperate to show the League you're worthy that you're acting like getting the title of Super Hero is the only thing that matters! So don't you dare ask me how I resent the way you've treated us! Treated me!"

"Everything I have done has been to help the Team! I'm trying to keep you all safe!"

"Yeah, well you've done a great job of that!" I shout back. "Thank god you were there to stop the Reds from ambushing us in our home base! What would we have done without you there to take down Clayface?! And let's not forget how you got Deathstroke out of the way before he could hurt anyone!"

"I was there! I came to get you all out!"

"But he didn't hurt you!" I scream. The sound echoes through the hollow mountain, ringing with anger. "You didn't have to watch him hurt everyone you care about! You didn't wake up in a cell in god knows where and see him standing over you and not know if your friends were even alive! You weren't there! You've never been there! And now you just show up like everything's fine and expect me to be okay with it?!"

"Robin…"

"I don't care what you do. Just leave me alone."

I try to push past him but he grabs my arm.

"Robin." He repeats, his voice firmer. His grip on my arm is strong enough to cut off the circulation and his mask lenses are narrowed into slits. "Your report said you and Superboy were alone when you woke up."

My heart skips a beat. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. There's no way to take it back. I take a deep breath and charge forward.

"Yeah, well I lied."

"Why?!" Red Arrow demands, his voice hard as steel. If I don't answer him, he'll never let it go.

"Because. He came to gloat."

"What did he say?"

I steel myself and look Red Arrow straight in the eye.

"That if Light didn't want me, he was going to take me for himself."

Red Arrow reels back. The accusation evaporates and leaves behind an expression of horror.

"Rob, I… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"

I wrench my arm out of the grip to cut him off.

"Yeah, well now you know."

The entire team is huddled around the door frame, and they all jump back when I make eye contact.

"Don't." I say, cutting them off before any of them can make apologies for eavesdropping or comment on what just happened.

'_Recognized: Robin B01.'_

* * *

Wayne Manor

* * *

"Mistress Stephanie, kindly hold still." Alfred chastens, trying to stick the final bobby pin in her hair while she wiggles excitedly.

"But we're gonna be late!"

"Yes, it certainly seems so." Alfred answers with a sigh. "Master Jason, where is your bow tie?"

"Bow ties are stupid."

"Jason, please put on your tie." Bruce asks with the air of a desperate man. Cassie is resisting all his efforts to put her sparkly black shoes on.

"I want to wear one of your ties." Jason crosses his arms and puts his foot down.

"Fine."

"Yes!" Jason whoops, turning and sprinting up the stairs to the first-floor landing. "I'm gonna wear the gold one!"

"Jason, you are not wearing an eight-thousand-dollar tie tonight!" Bruce calls after him. Cassie wriggles free of his grip and Selina steps forward before things get any more hectic.

"You go get him a tie, I'll get her shoes on."

Bruce nods gratefully and disappears up the stairs. I snatch Cassie up before Selina can get to her.

"I've got it." I say coldly. She looks a little surprised but shrugs it off.

"No shoes!" Cassie grabs my nose.

"Nyes shoes," I say, my voice garbled until she finally lets go. I let her put one shoe on by herself, and then she's happy to let me do the other one, and then pick the first shoe off the floor and put that one on too. By the time they come back, Jason is already complaining about how uncomfortable the tie is and Bruce looks like he's coming down with a bad headache.

"Please tell me we're ready to go." He asks Alfred in a voice bordering on defeated.

"Tim's not here!" Steph announces loudly. I fight the urge to facepalm as Bruce and Selina both look shocked.

"He's been waiting in the limo for half an hour." I remind everyone when Bruce is about to go running back up the stairs.

"Why isn't he waiting inside?"

"He's playing Smash." Steph reports.

"After I specifically told him not to bring his DS?"

"Nice going, narc!" Jason rolls his eyes at her.

"I didn't narc! He asked!"

"That's what narc-ing is, you narc!"

Bruce's eye twitches. Selina laughs and rubs his arm, leaning in to tell him something that makes the stress lines on his face fade; I turn away with a scowl.

"C'mon guys." I mutter, carrying Cassie and dragging Stephanie after me; she and Jason are still going at it and they probably will be until we get to the gala. Then it'll be all perfect smiles and best behavior for six hours. Can't wait.

* * *

"Happy holidays, Bruce!" Elizabeth Bishop exclaims, throwing her arms around Bruce and kissing him on the cheek lightly. "And this must be Selina. It's wonderful to meet you!"

I see Jill and Lenny sitting together on one of the low benches and leave Bruce and Selina to chat with the Bishops. Jason, Tim and Steph trail after me. Cassie wriggles around to try and follow us, but Bruce has a firm grip on her and whispers something to her that gets her to stop.

"Parties are stupid." Tim grumbles, leaning against the wall. "There's not even enough chairs."

"Please, you haven't even been through Bar Mitzvah season." Jill teases him. "Imagine this every single weekend for three months. Plus you have to sit through the services."

"I won't go." Tim shoots back.

"Lucky!" Lenny whines.

The cocktail hour passes pretty fast. We take turns grabbing appetizers and coming back to our corner bench to share where the best ones are. Lenny spends a hilarious five minutes pretending to be a food critic ripping apart a ricotta and fig spring roll. Jason almost manages to get a glass of whiskey before Alfred appears from nowhere to intercept it. Steph doesn't stop complaining about how bored she is until Jill drags her away to go judge everyone's dresses.

Things get bad when the appetizers get taken away and everyone gets herded into the main ballroom. No more food and no more places to sit. Alfred leaves a little while after that to take Cassie to bed. I seriously debate going home with them, but they're gone before I can make up my mind. An hour after that, things get worse. A few late arrivals show up. Including…

"Roy!"

"Hey there Tim." Roy grins and pulls him in for a side hug before fist-bumping Jason. I do my best to hide behind a flower arrangement before he gets to us. Roy clearly sees me but since he doesn't make any effort to call me out, he must not want a repeat of the Cave.

My phone starts buzzing while I'm still debating how long I can pretend to be a flower. I check it and there's a call from an unknown number. Tough choice… face Roy or answer a spam call. My siblings are crowded around Roy so he's totally distracted, Bruce and Selina are busy socializing, and Alfred already left. Nobody's going to notice me leave. I duck into the hallway and answer my phone.

"Hello?"

"I have something you'll be interested in." Slade says. My heart pounds. Okay, not a spam call. Way worse than a spam call could ever be. Thank god I went outside to answer it.

"What is it?"

"Luthor wants to meet you."

"What?!" I hiss. "How does he know?!"

"Take a guess."

"Selina." I growl. "I can't right now. I'm at the holiday party."

"I'm aware. Exit through the service door, I have a change of clothes for you in the car."

"Are you serious? Right now?!"

There's no answer. I look down and see that he disconnected the call.

"Shit!" I hiss, tucking my phone back into my pocket. Why does he have to pick the worst time for everything? Crap, there's no way my family isn't going to notice that I'm gone for that long… but it's not like I've never ducked out in the middle of a party before. Maybe if I get back in time, I can get Jill and Lenny to cover for me.

That'll work.

This hallway leads to the kitchens and the rear exit of the building. I turn the corner and slip out onto the back patio.

It's cold outside; almost like it's the middle of December. A light dusting of snow covers the garden but the path to the driveway has already been trampled out. Lucky for me, since I won't leave prints behind. There's a black van parked out behind the building, exactly where Slade said it would be. It's got armored tires and the tinted windows are so dark it's impossible to even see the outline of a driver, let alone see who it is. The second the service door closes behind me, the van door opens. Looking around to check for the millionth time that no one is watching, I slip into the backseat and pull the door shut behind me. The car takes off.

"Get changed." Slade throws my uniform at me. "Everything else goes into this bag."

"Thanks for the short notice." I grumble, but I'm already pulling off my tie and jacket and working on the super pinchy shoes.

"Luthor only contacted me a few hours ago and the opportunity was too important to pass up. Meeting Luthor is a crucial step; once the members of the Light see you as an asset, they will speak more freely in front of you and allow your presence in meetings they would otherwise forbid."

"Is Renegade supposed to be an asset for the Light?" I frown. Talking in third person makes it easier to pretend it's not going to be me playing this part. Never mind the fact that I'm putting on the chest armor and gloves as we speak.

"Renegade is my asset." He answers. "As far as the Light is concerned, he is not ready to operate on his own."

"So any mission you go on…"

"I won't make you come on any Light missions that you don't wish to." Slade interrupts. "That being said, if you want information, you'll have to find it out in person. I will protect you from discovery, but I won't pass anything along to you if you weren't present for the mission. Consider it incentive."

I take a deep breath before putting my mask on to finish the uniform. Slade crosses his arms at me, waiting for my response.

"I didn't really expect anything else."

"I'll warn you in advance, this will be unpleasant. I don't know what Luthor wants, but presumably he has another purpose to meet besides confirming your existence; that reason will likely culminate in a job at a later point."

"Do you have any idea what the job is?"

"Unfortunately not. But I will not involve you in anything you're not ready for."

"So it could be a contract."

"Renegade." Slade says in a low tone. "I'm not giving you any more information for your own good. Regardless of what Luthor's mission is, you cannot interfere. He will be watching incredibly closely. All of your actions reflect directly onto me. So long as you intend to act the spy, your mask must be flawless."

"I know."

"There is no room for error."

"I know." I repeat before taking a deep breath. "What do I have to do?"

"We need to establish Renegade as separate from either of your other personas. It will be crucial to intersperse his appearances with Robin and Grayson. As I've said before, this meeting will be extremely unpleasant."

"Yeah, I know. It's a meeting with Luthor."

"He will be interested to know your identity, or at the very least how you came into my employ. At no point will you be given a name beyond Renegade; he'll investigate any fake names too thoroughly. He will be told that I staged your disappearance several years ago. All you need to do is act defeated and obedient."

"Great." I say sarcastically. "Anything else?"

"Don't speak. Not a single word. The fewer clues to your identity, the better."

"No complaints there."

Slade nods, fixing his chest armor and putting on his mask.

"Good. Are you ready?"

I take a deep breath.

"Nope."

"Keep your shoulders back and your posture straight." The car pulls to a stop and Slade reaches for the door. "Let's go."

* * *

"Apologies for the short notice. I didn't intend to come to Gotham this late in the year, but I heard rumors you were in town and I couldn't resist." Luthor is standing in the middle of the room, looking perfectly put together even in a creepy basement. It was too dark outside to see where the car stopped, but Slade led us down some utility stairs and into a weird underground office building.

"This worked out well for both of us."

"I was surprised that you requested a face-to-face meeting after our last transaction, but I believed it had to do with your recent work with the brats. In a way, I suppose it still does. I admit, I wasn't sure how much stock to put in rumors."

"Face to face makes introductions simpler." Slade agrees.

Luthor grins, turning to look at me. There's curiosity and greed and the full force of his attention makes my stomach freeze. My breath catches in my throat and I can feel satisfaction coming off Slade in waves. Luthor is right there. This is really happening.

Luthor isn't just a bad guy, he's THE bad guy. It hits me again that I'm alone in a room with an evil billionaire obsessed with destroying Superman and the dangerous, sociopathic mercenary who's threatened to kill my friends and family. What the hell am I doing?!

"By all means, introduce me."

"I believe I mentioned a time-consuming project. Well, he's finally up to my standards. Lex, this is Renegade."

I manage to stay still by sheer force of will. Not even Slade is going to be able to blame me if I flinch a little.

"Renegade? Interesting name."

"Oh, it suits him quite well."

Lex takes a step towards me and I scramble back without thinking. Slade's hand grabs my arm in a death grip and he orders, "Stay."

I freeze. Slade told me to be obedient, but it's hard to pretend to follow orders when this is the most terrifying thing I've ever done. Lex grins even wider and tilts my chin up and the touch chills me to the bone. His fingers dig into my skin like he's handling a piece of meat. Not that Luthor would ever stoop so low as to prepare his own food.

"He's more skittish than I would've expected."

"It's been a long time since he's seen another person." Slade answers, letting go of my arm. I still don't move and neither does Luthor. "And most of the time, he's in his cell."

Slade said this would be unpleasant, but there aren't enough words in the English language to capture how horrible this moment is. I have to get through this. Slade's giving me a cover story and making sure Luthor or anybody else won't suspect who I really am.

"When will I see him in action?" Luthor finally drops his hand away and it takes all my self-control not to fall over in relief. My heart is pounding so fast it hurts to breathe.

"He goes where I do. I brought him out for a test run at Hizer. I'm afraid Green Arrow didn't enjoy that encounter very much."

"Fascinating." Luthor grins. "I admit, Wilson, you never cease to impress me."

"That's quite a compliment."

"Your work with the sidekicks? You wouldn't believe how many people I've hired that failed to do the same thing."

My stomach twists. Luthor hired Slade to hurt my friends. That means Slade wasn't just doing it to get back at me… but that's still part of it. He always has more than one motivation.

"The trick is knowing where their weak spots are." Slade answers, squeezing my arm warningly. I flinch. Luthor watches me sharply, eyes trained on my face. There's no moisture left in my mouth and my legs are threatening to shake. "You mentioned you had a job for me."

"It's less of a job and more of a consulting opportunity. I believe you're familiar with the Superboy already."

"He's an easier takedown than the standard Kryptonian." Slade replies and it takes all my self-control to hold still. But it takes Luthor's attention off me and that's enough for me to catch my breath again. "Still, he held out longer than the rest of the brats."

"Superboy is one successful creation of an organization known as Project Cadmus. Officially, Cadmus is a biotechnology company which provides cover for its more… clandestine research directions."

"Would this be the same Cadmus that collapsed suddenly last summer?"

Luthor smiles, but not in the way that a regular human being would smile. The look on his face is like watching a crate full of puppies being stepped on.

"I do enjoy working with professionals."

I miss whatever Slade says in response because I can't tell which of them is winning the weird, evil creepy "I'm more evil and manipulative than you are but we're working together so we have to pretend to get along but I will turn on you in a second if I have a chance" contest they have going on. Thank god I just have to stand here and not say anything. I am nowhere near ready to deal with Luthor at his worst.

"The most successful project Cadmus has produced are known as genomorphs. Genetic hybrids with advanced psychic manipulation capabilities."

"Useful." Slade says.

"So far, that research has been a fruitful investment." Luthor agrees.

"What's the problem?" Slade crosses his arms over his chest.

"They're disappearing from Cadmus. Millions of dollars' worth of scientific progress simply vanishing into thin air."

"And you need me to find the thief?"

"Oh, I know exactly who's responsible and where they're hiding them. The creatures are still somewhere beneath the building, but my security teams have been unable to find any hint of their presence. That's the issue with rogue psychic manipulators."

"I see. The issue is how to recapture them when any attempts lead to a mind wipe?"

"Precisely. That's where you come in. I have constructed a gambit that lies outside my usual area of expertise. As a capable tactician, I want your input. You'll be fairly compensated for your time, of course."

"Of course."

Luthor turns to the screen on the far wall and pulls a device from his pocket. The screen turns on and a scientist in a stained lab coat appears. He jumps when he sees Luthor.

"Uh, Mr. Luthor, sir, we weren't expecting your call until—"

"Do not speak unless you have any progress to report." Luthor snaps. The man gulps, stammering out excuses.

"Well, sir, we have managed to… um…"

"Shut up. Get me Dubbilex. NOW."

The scientist scrambles out of the frame and a minute later, a very familiar blue horned creature appears on screen. It's the same guy who led us to Superboy and helped us all escape Cadmus.

"Mr. Luthor. How may I assist you?"

"Retrieve Project Matchstick."

Dubbliex hesitates, with obvious reluctance to ask the next question.

"Are you certain?"

"Did I stutter?" Luthor snaps. "Have Guardian and Dr. LaRue assist with the preparation and have it ready for injection by tomorrow."

"Very well. Is there anything else?"

"Not yet."

Luthor cuts off the call and the screen goes black.

"This Dubbilex is responsible, then?" Slade asks. I can hear the raised eyebrow in his tone.

"He's been hiding my genomophs for months now. It began slowly, but that's only built his confidence. He doesn't realize I suspect him and has been particularly hardworking to disguise his activities. Cadmus' researchers have led him to believe that my current plans rest on the original Kryptonian clone."

"Not the Superboy?"

"The current Superboy is the second viable clone we produced. The first one we developed had a crucial flaw; its full Kryptonian genetic code passed on an immunity to psychic manipulation. Human DNA was introduced in the next attempt to ensure that the weapon would be programmable. Despite the loss of raw power, it was an infinitely valuable adjustment."

"Then Project Matchstick would be the first attempt?"

"Very close. Project Match is uncontrollable. Initial implantation with knowledge and memories was successful, but after his disastrous first escape, it became clear that the implanted control codes had failed to take hold. The project was immediately cancelled and he was placed into stasis. Cadmus' best and brightest continued to study him, of course, and the results were fascinating."

He hands Slade a file.

"Project Matchstick."

"Clever name." Slade snorts.

"We may not have the ability to control his conscious mind, but we can overwrite it. I always believed it would be useful to have a way to temporarily induce a Kryptonian into a mindless rage."

"Interesting." Slade says, scanning through the file. My neck hurts from holding still, but this is important. This kind of information is exactly why I agreed to do any of this. There's another Superboy out there that no one knows about.

"Well?" Luthor asks after a long pause.

"Well what?"

"You are the tactician here. Dubbilex knows the location of the missing Genomorphs and distrusts me completely. He will assist Match in freeing himself before Matchstick can be administered and lead him to safety, allowing us to discover what Dubbilex has hidden without risking our own personnel."

There's a long pause while Slade considers it. Luthor looks perfectly relaxed, adjusting his polished cuff links as he waits. I realize I'm holding my breath and try to exhale as quietly as I can without drawing Luthor's attention again. Finally, Slade shakes his head.

"It won't work. It's far too obvious a ploy."

"Is it now?"

"The genomorphs are disappearing slowly and carefully. If this Dubbilex has any intelligence at all, he knows you're suspicious. He won't hide any creatures that are high profile or likely to cause trouble once they've been hidden. This Match is an unknown, especially since it has been in stasis for so long."

"Then how do you propose I get my genomorphs back?" Luthor scowls.

"Send Superboy."

"Amusing."

"Inform him about this Match, say that Cadmus has created a new super-clone. With his hero complex, he'll investigate."

Luthor pauses as he considers Slade's suggestion. I can see the moment when the idea he dismissed takes hold.

"How does this find my missing experiments?"

"Dubbilex already trusts Superboy. He helped to free him, after all. If Superboy returns to Cadmus, he will be taken to the missing genomorphs, if for no other reason than the faint hope that he might be able to liberate them as well."

"Hmm."

"And of course, be prepared to offer Dubbliex a deal. Once he's been exposed, he'll be desperate for any chance to minimize the fallout, especially for the other genomorphs."

"Naturally." Luthor glances down at his watch and then straightens his tie. "I'll consider your advice. Unfortunately, I'm on a tight schedule so we'll have to cute this meeting short. I'll be in touch."

"It was a pleasure, Lex."

Staying still while Luthor disappears out of the warehouse feels like an eternity. My head is spinning and my pulse is only just starting to slow down and I feel like I jumped off a building without a grappling line. Slade's hand lands on my shoulder and I jump a full foot into the air.

"We'll talk about this later. For now, you need to get back."

* * *

Bruce Wayne

Wayne Foundation Annual Holiday Gala

* * *

"Any sign of Dick?" Bruce asked as Selina returned from her tour around the room.

"No. The kids haven't seen him in a while either."

"Should I call him?"

"Give it a few minutes. He might be in the bathroom."

"He better not have left."

"Bruce, relax. It's a holiday party. How much trouble could he possibly get into?"

Bruce tried to take the words to heart, but any events that forced him to split his attention between his kids and his role as Billionaire CEO Philanthropist put him on edge. He'd already lost track of Stephanie three times so far, Alfred wasn't here to keep an eye on Jason, and he was pretty sure Dick ducked out before dinner had been served.

Even worse, Gladys and Randolph Ashton-Laraby were heading towards them with the unique determination that was only possessed by the top tier of society's Upper Crust.

"Oh great." Bruce muttered to Selina under his breath. The sight of Lex Luthor striding into the room like he'd personally funded the whole event never got less infuriating. It was a constant joke in the Wayne Foundation board room; trying to figure out a way to not invite Luthor without insulting a major donor was THE impossible challenge.

"Quite a party, Bruce." Even Lex's attempts at charm oozed insincerity. The Ashton-Laraby's would've been far better company, and that was truly saying something.

"Just our way of thanking donors for their support." Bruce answered, plastering a harmless, vapid smile on his face.

"No need to thank me." Lex said in a tone he might have called charitable but anyone else would call sickening. "I'm delighted to give this crumbling city a chance to grow. LexCorp is the true backbone of Metropolis, after all. Imagine the wonders we'll do in Gotham once we start growing."

"Well, we'll just have to make sure that doesn't happen." Bruce said cheerfully, tossing back the drink in his hand. It looked like champagne, but Luthor didn't need to know it was carbonated cider. Lex sneered at Bruce under the guise of a pleasant smile, then turned his attention.

"Well, who have we here? Aren't you going to introduce me to this exquisite flower?"

"Selina Kyle." Selina said, practically snapping the words at him.

"A pleasure. You're a very lucky man, Mr. Wayne."

"Luck had nothing to do with it, Lex." Selina shot back. A look passed between the two and Luthor inclined his head. Bruce took the man's distraction as a chance to scan the room for Luthor's guards. Two bodyguards, both ex-CIA, stood by the door and somehow managed to be out of the way. Mercy blended in with the guests, almost unrecognizable in a tailored pantsuit and a ponytail. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a door open and Nathan Bishop's son snuck back into the ballroom, doing a terrible job of being sneaky. Walking far more casually, Dick followed him inside. Even from all the way across the room, it was easy to see the chocolate staining their white shirts and the extra chocolates obviously concealed in the napkins they held.

Bruce felt a knot of tension in his chest loosen. The situation was so complicated right now, that seeing Dick sneaking junk food like a normal teenager was reassuring in ways he couldn't describe. Dick saw Bruce looking and flinched, hiding the napkin behind his back before offering a very cheesy grin. Then Dick scowled and stuck his tongue out while making a truly unflattering face.

Bruce hid a laugh under a cough when he turned and saw the irate distaste flashing across Lex's face.

"What a… charming young man." Luthor said sarcastically.

"I'm very proud of him," Bruce agreed. "Well Lex, it was good to see you. I've got to finish the rounds, but thank you for coming and we thank you for your continued financial support. Happy holidays."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're all safe during this mess; wash your hands, practice good social distancing, don't rub your eyes or nose. I have a lot of time to write right now (thank you mass-quarantine!), so hopefully the next few chapters will all be out soon.
> 
> Thank you for reading and leave me a comment if you enjoyed this chapter!


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're all staying safe and healthy. Thank you all so much for your patience and your support. This chapter was a lot of fun to write and I hope you find it as fun a combination of action, anxiety and angst as I do.

Dick Grayson

Mount Justice

Wednesday, December 29th, 2012

* * *

"Robin!" Miss Martian throws herself at me, launching herself through the doorway into my room. "Thank Mars you're still here! I've been trying to reach you for weeks! Why didn't you call me back?"

"I… it's…"

"It's okay." M'gann's eyes glow green and the door shuts itself, locking with a loud click. Without even pausing to take a breath, she says, "That doesn't matter. What's important is that you're here now. Listen, I was wrong. I know what you're planning to do, and you can't! You cannot give yourself up to him, he's a monster! And—"

"M'gann!" I interrupt her before she gets any more frantic. She stops.

"What?"

"It's okay." I hold up my hands, trying to get her to calm down. To show her that I'm calm and everything really is okay.

"What? What's okay?"

"Everything."

M'gann's mouth opens and closes. She shakes her head.

"I don't understand. What do you mean?"

"You were right about what I was planning. A few weeks ago, I said my goodbyes and went to the Haunt expecting that I wouldn't come out again. I confronted Slade. He wasn't expecting it. I caught him off guard so much that he was willing to negotiate. We made a new deal. He's never going to come after you again, or anybody that I care about."

M'gann freezes. The look on her face hardens.

"And what do you have to do?" She asks slowly.

"Nothing new. Renegade is his apprentice. But I get to pass secrets to the Justice League. I can make something good out of all of this."

M'gann stares at me, the look on her face is somewhere between dumbfounded and horrified.

"You can't be serious."

"What do you mean?"

"Dick, this has gone too far. It has to stop."

"It did stop. It's over, M'gann. He's never going to hurt any of you ever again." Before she can say anything, I add, "Or me."

There's a long pause.

"You can't possible believe that." M'gann whispers, disbelief coloring her voice.

"We made a deal."

"He's lying to you." She snaps, voice suddenly hard and tone sharp. I meet her eyes and shake my head.

"No, he's not."

"Do you hear yourself? That's all he's ever done! He's been hurting you and lying to you and using you ever since you met him! Everything he's done has hurt you! Or did you forget that he shot your best friend?!" She snaps. I flinch, but she keeps going. "He's just saying what you want to hear! He wants to turn you into his puppet! Dick, you can't let him! You cannot give in now!"

Blood roars in my ears. My heart pounds so fast that I hear the steady thud-thump in my ears like a drum beat. My face burns and I see red and the sudden swell of fury rises so fast it feels like being set on fire.

"I'm doing this for you!" I shout, throwing my arms out. "He almost killed you! And Wally, and Conner, and he shattered Artemis' knee! I'm doing what I have to so that he'll never hurt any of you again!"

"And you expect me to just sit back and watch him destroy you?! Dick, I have seen what he's done to you. I have stuck with you through everything; I've protected your secrets so many times! I protected you in the mindshare in Bialya, I covered for you when Wolf almost exposed your texts, I was there for you when you broke down because bringing the dimensions together meant bringing Slade back too, I even went to Europe with you to chase a lead could have been a trap for all we knew! You might not realize how much he's gotten inside your head, but I do! He could tell you the sky is brown and you'd find a way to convince yourself it was."

"You're wrong."

"I'm not going to let you do this."

My heart pounds like it's trying to break out of my chest. My mouth feels dry and my hands are trembling.

"People will get hurt if I don't."

"People have already been hurt. People are going to get hurt no matter what you do. You cannot do this. You know you can't."

"It's too late."

"I'm not going to stand by and watch this happen. Dick, enough is enough. Tell the League, or I will."

The world spins.

"You wouldn't." The words fall out of my mouth.

"I am not going to watch my friend be turned into a monster."

The words burn like shards of glass being shoved down my throat. I try to swallow, but I can't around the lump in my throat.

"No." I say, first quietly. Then louder. "No."

M'gann doesn't say anything. The lump in my throat grows when I realize I know how to stop her.

"If you do… I'll…"

"Don't. Dick, don't you dare say it. Not after everything we've been through."

"I'll…" She just watches me, face tightening with betrayal and an endless well of sadness. "I'll tell them you're a White Martian."

All the color drains out of M'gann's face. She shakes her head, but doesn't say anything. I can't make a sound either. She's standing a few inches away, but the distance between us is a chasm that widens with every second; she might as well be on the other side of a canyon. M'gann takes a tiny step back and it hits me what I've just done.

Oh god.

"M'gann, I… I didn't mean—"

"Get out of my way." M'gann's voice shakes, but there's steel behind it. I glance back at the door behind me and hold up my hands shaking my head frantically.

"I… I didn't, I'm sorry, M'gann, I'm sorry. Please, I didn't mean-"

"I said MOVE!" She screams, eyes burning green and the door throws itself open, slamming into the wall with a crash. Numbly, I step to the side and she pushes past me and disappears.

What have I done?

* * *

Wally West

Mount Justice

* * *

Wally threw up his hands as Megan nearly plowed into him.

His usual greeting of "Hey Megalicious!" died in his throat when he saw her. Her eyes were red and puffy, dried tear tracks lining her cheeks, and her fists were clenched so tightly that her fingers were pale and bloodless.

"What's wrong?" He asked instead. She opened her mouth and immediately burst into tears. Wally put his arms around her and she leaned in, tears soaking the front of his shirt. Wally looked around a little helplessly for any of their other teammates who were way better at comforting people. Kaldur, Zatanna, hell, even Artemis would know what to say, but none of them were here. "What happened?"

Megan didn't answer, she just kept crying.

"Did Conner do something?" He asked, trying to pat her back in a way that was even remotely comforting. "Because if he did, I'll kick his butt, I don't care that he's Kryptonian."

"No." Megan got out between sobs. "No, it's not that it's, I can't…"

Megan gasped suddenly, pulling back out of Wally's grip. She looked at him through blotchy eyes and stared like he was the answer to everything. The change was so sudden it made Wally's heart race; her whole demeanor had instantly changed and even the tears were gone.

"Uh… Meg?"

"You know." She breathed.

"What do I know?" Wally asked cautiously, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow.

"About Robin."

"What…" Wally trailed off, frozen in place. True, there were an infinite number of things she could have been talking about, but he had a horrible feeling sinking in his stomach that she was talking about the worst possible one. "What about him?"

Megan looked around the hall before slowly leaning in. She raised her hands around her mouth and Wally, heart beating so fast it hummed, turned toward her.

"Deathstroke." She breathed, so quietly he could almost convince himself he'd imagined it. Wally pulled back. His eyes were wide with panic and he shook his head.

"We can't talk about this here, Meg. It's not safe."

"Then where?"

"I have a thought." Wally said, tapping his temple in a signal.

'_You think he has the cave bugged?!' _Megan asked worriedly.

'_There's no way to know, but better safe than sorry, right?' _Wally shot her a really pathetic attempt at a grin. _'I know you're upset, but I have a plan I've been working on. If you want to hear it, there's an abandoned weigh station near exit twelve coming towards Happy Harbor. Meet me there tomorrow afternoon.'_

'_Why not now?'_

'_Because I don't want everyone to know I can run yet and I can't push off my meeting with Canary.'_

'_You can?!' _Megan exclaimed, looking down at the boot on his foot.

"Canary's been trying to get me to talk about S.T.A.R. and she's not going to let me push it back again."Wally grimaced. "Especially after the Failsafe, she thinks I'm in denial or something."

"I forgot about the Failsafe." Megan winced, letting him change the topic. He felt terrible about reminding her of that old wound, but in his defense, they were both distracted.

"I know, right?" Wally managed a grin this time. "I'd kill for something as cut and dry as an alien invasion. No offense."

"None taken." Megan sniffed, rubbing her eyes.

'_Tomorrow?' _Wally asked over the mind link.

'_I'll be there. Thank you.'_

'_Are you going to be okay until then?'_

Megan gave a dry laugh, eyes brimming with tears.

'_No. But I have to be.'_

* * *

Dick Grayson

Wayne Manor

* * *

The Batcave is empty when I zeta in. I feel sick as I take off my uniform and trudge upstairs. The study is empty and the room feels impossibly big and imposing. Thomas and Martha Wayne stare down at me from their spot over the fireplace. Thomas' face is stern and I can feel his fury; "How dare you lie to my son? How dare you put my grandchildren in danger?"

Martha's eyes are following me like they always do, but there's sadness on her face. She knows I don't want to do any of this. She knows I don't have a choice.

Bruce and Alfred have told me stories about her. Martha Wayne was a force of nature and a brilliant, scary lady wrapped up in four-inch heels, a string of pearls and impeccable red lipstick. If she was here, maybe she could drag Slade by the ear and get rid of him once and for all.

I drag myself away from the painting and out of the study. Steph is reading a book in the living room, but she looks up when I pass through. All I wanted when I stumbled out of the zeta beam was a shower and my bed, but now even that is more than I can handle. I duck inside the library, staggering onto the couch I usually sit on to do homework. My chest hurts like someone reached in and pulled my heart out. I fucked up. I fucked up so bad.

How could I have said that?! M'gann has been there for me through everything. She's been putting herself in danger to help me for months. She trusted me with her deepest, darkest secret and I just threatened to blackmail her.

My stomach churns and bile rises in my throat. There's a water bottle on the table next to my history textbook and my school laptop. I gulp stale water down and force the nausea away, counting beats to get my heart rate to slow.

I had to.

M'gann wasn't listening to me. She was going to tell the League everything. I can't stop working for Slade; if I do, he'll go after everyone I care about. I hurt M'gann badly, but at least she's alive. At least now, she has to stop and think about how dangerous this is. I know she just wants me to be safe, but it's too late. She can either doom everyone by trying to save me, or she can help me keep everyone else safe. Besides, she's wrong. This new deal is good. I get to help the League and pass information. Just because M'gann thinks Slade is evil doesn't mean she's right about this. I can help the League this way.

Bruce still doesn't trust me about Selina.

The thought hits me like a punch in the gut and M'gann's words echo in my head.

_He's been hurting you and lying to you and using you ever since you met him. Lying is all he's ever done. You might not know how much he's gotten inside your head, but I do._

No. She has to be wrong. Bruce just doesn't want to believe Selina could be the mole; he's just not willing to listen. That doesn't mean the intel Slade is giving me is bad or… or worthless.

The door to the library creaks open. I jump, whirling around as three faces blink back at me. Tim looks worried, Jason looks mad and Steph has a textbook "I didn't do it!" face.

"What do you guys want?" I mutter, sitting back on the couch.

"Steph said you looked sad." Tim answers. Steph whacks him on the arm and Jason rolls his eyes. "What? He wouldn't have bought your excuse!"

He's right.

"I'm fine."

"Bullshit." Jason calls. Steph giggles at the swear word Bruce definitely does not want us using around her, but her laugh sounds half-hearted. "We're here to bother you and we're not leaving."

"Guys, I'm okay."

"Did you hear something?" Jason asks Tim. Tim shakes his head.

"Nope! Steph, did you hear something?"

Steph throws herself into an armchair and pulls out her book. "I didn't either."

"Must be the wind." Jason agrees, settling into a couch with _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows._ I stare at him, mind spinning. I didn't realize he was already on the last one. What else haven't I noticed?

"You're serious?" I ask as Tim takes my spot on the couch, head already buried in his DS.

"There it is again!" Steph says.

"The wind is sure loud in here." Jason agrees. I sit on the couch, pushing Tim's legs out of the way. They're going to follow me if I go somewhere else, and honestly, I don't want them to leave. Just for a little while, I want to pretend that everything is normal. That everything is okay.

I never would have guessed how easy it is to get lost in an essay on Teddy Roosevelt's Square Deal. A long time ago, Aunt Diana told me about a temporal rift that sent half the Justice League back in time and they had to help Roosevelt stop an alien invasion of Omicronians. I'm not sure if it really happened, because none of the other Leaguers will admit that it happened. The closest I got to a response was Uncle Clark saying, "Nope!" in a very suspicious and unconvincing voice.

I totally lose track of time, because I'm on the fourth and final page of my essay when Alfred gently opens the library door.

"Dinner is ready. Please make sure that you all wash your hands."

"Thanks Alfred!"

"Be there in a sec!" Tim calls.

When the door closes, I take a breath. Jason is already out of his seat and Tim and Steph are hungry and ready for food.

"Wait." I say. They all stop and look at me. "I need you guys to promise me something."

"Sure." "What?" "Anything." They say at the same time. I take a deep breath.

"Promise me you won't trust Selina. Things are complicated but I just need to know you guys are being careful."

Tim and Steph look at each other and Jason frowns at me.

"Okay." He says for all three of them.

"Thank you."

* * *

My phone goes off in the middle of the night, waking me up from a miraculously dreamless sleep. Half-asleep, I feel around my bed table for my phone. I almost push it onto the ground, but manage to pick it up without getting out of bed.

"'lo?" I mumble.

"Do you have a way to get to Metropolis?" Slade asks. It takes all my willpower not to hang up and go back to sleep, to just pretend this is part of a bad dream.

"What?"

"Can you get to Metropolis in the next half hour?"

"What?" I blink, sitting up and rubbing my eyes as I squint at the clock perched next to the door. "Slade, it's two in the morning!"

"Do you or do you not have zeta beam access to Metropolis?" Slade's voice drops down into dangerously low territory, the kind that means he isn't playing around. My heart skips a beat.

"I… Yes, but Slade, I can't just zeta to Metropolis in the middle of the night!"

"Are you capable of tampering with the zeta logs or do you need me to do it?"

Holy shit, he's serious. Slade wants me to use Batman's zeta beam to go to Metropolis at two in the morning to help him commit a crime.

"No! I'm not doing it!"

"Your presence tonight is essential. Ra's al Ghul hired us to retrieve some stolen property of his. You need to be there."

"No!"

"Superboy is patrolling Metropolis tonight." Slade says.

"Stay away from him!" I snap, trying to pretend the fear in my voice is anger.

"I think you misunderstand. What I'm saying is that you will have an opportunity to speak with him about things that Robin cannot know." He's talking about Cadmus. Luthor and his plan to use Superboy to find the missing genomorphs. And Match, the other clone that's still in Luthor's clutches. Slade seizes my silence as an opening to keep talking. "It's a very simple job. A journalist uncovered the location of al Ghul's missing items but he won't divulge his source. We use the source to find it, and from there it's a simple retrieval. After it's been returned, you can orchestrate a run-in with Superboy and pass along anything you need to."

No. This is a bad idea. This is a terrible, horrible idea. Every time I've gone out as Renegade, I've been terrified of a repeat of Hizer, of running into one of my friends when I'm on the wrong side. To deliberately seek out Superboy? It's a horrible, unbelievably stupid idea.

But Slade is right; I've been trying to find a way to tell Superboy about Match for weeks and there's no way I should know anything about it. This could be the only way to save him and the genomorphs. To actually do something good with the information I've given up so much for. To prove M'gann is wrong and I did what I had to do to protect everyone.

"Fine. I'll handle the logs." Stay out of my computer system, I want to spit. Instead, I climb out of bed and head for the most nondescript workout gear I have in my closet.

"Get to Metropolis. I'll meet you with your gear. Do not get caught."

With that, Slade hangs up.

* * *

An hour later, I'm standing on the top floor of an empty parking garage in the full Renegade suit, watching Slade talk to the assassin lady who was waiting for us, and hating my life as hard as I can.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me." A man drops down from above, landing in the small circle between the three of us.

"You've got a problem?" The woman raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. She doesn't look surprised to see him. She doesn't look particularly happy about it either. The man glares and pokes an accusing finger at her.

"Nope, I am not falling for that one again. I know you pinned that screwup in Dakar on me, don't pretend you want to be here now."

"So you think." She answers loftily, shifting in the moonlight so the knives hanging around her waist gleam. This might be the last place I could possibly want to be right now and I wish I had nothing good to say about any of this, but I can still admit that it's a power look.

"So _**you**_ think." The man mimics her voice in an unflattering mockery. "Aside from the fact that you're a bitch and I hate you, what I meant was that this is compete overkill. Why are they sending four of us for one retrieval?"

Slade manages to shoot him with an unimpressed look despite wearing a full-face mask and body armor.

"How are you even stupider than I thought you were?" The woman shakes her head at him. "The Demon's Head wants this job done right. He doesn't trust any of us to do it on our own. He knows I hate you, so if you screw up, I'll rat you out. Same thing if I mess up."

"If you're so smart, then what about him?" The man demands, nodding at Slade. They're all ignoring me, and I truly have no problem with that. I'm still trying to figure out who they are. Must be low tier assassins if I'm having this much trouble recognizing their costumes. The woman is wearing all black combat gear, with white stripes wrapping around her forearms. Knives hang around the belt at her waist, fanning out when she moves like a string of very sharp beads. She's also got shoulder pads that stick out far enough to distract you from the fact that they're hiding two more knives apiece. She's not wearing a mask, but she has two thick stripes of black paint running up from her chin, over each eye, and wrapping all the way around her shaved head. Intimating? Definitely, but it's great costume design.

The League of Shadows doesn't have that many Black assassins, I really should be able to recognize her. While I'm thinking about it, minus a point to the evil assassin organization for the lack of diversity. The guy should be just as easy to place. He's wearing a purple bodysuit with orange eyepieces and a big spider on his face. Seriously, purple and orange. Maybe he kills people with his horrible fashion sense.

"Ra's doesn't trust me either. You two are looking to raise your standings, and he thinks I want his approval. You're both here to keep an eye on me." Slade answers.

"So what's stopping me from pushing you off a building?" Spider guy leers and the woman sneers back at him.

"If the mission fails, we all go down." She snaps. "As much as I'd love to cut your lines and watch you flail, it'll have to wait."

"Have you both decided to do your jobs or will I be making a solo report to the Demon's Head to explain the unfortunate tragedy that befell his assassins?" Slade asks, words dripping with derisive condescension. The woman whirls on him.

"I do not answer to you." The fire in her voice is enough to make me step back, but Slade just tilts head.

"Then act like it."

The woman stiffens with rage and it hits me that for the first time, I'm watching Slade manipulate someone who isn't me. I can tell exactly what he's doing too; the woman is clearly a competent agent, so for Slade to take charge, he needs to get her off balance. Make her want to prove herself. Before the woman can respond, Slade gestures a hand at me. "This is Renegade. Renegade, this is Onyx and Black Spider."

"Thought he'd be taller." Black Spider says. "He better not slow us down."

"You talk too much." I glower, trying to make my voice sound lower. Onyx snorts. Slade ignores me, which is as good a response as any I could ask for.

"Jones lives on the fifth floor. Every night at nine, he puts his kid to bed and passes by the north facing window. Perfect opening to grab him and pull him to the roof." Black Spider starts.

"Too messy. Doing it out in the open guarantees witnesses."

"You want to go in?" Onyx asks.

"Jones won't try to run if his kid's in the next room." Slade responds. My stomach tightens and I take a deep breath, reminding myself that they need Jones alive to find out his sources, and that Slade promised he and his daughter would survive the encounter. "The fuse box is in the utility shed on the building across the street. We need to cut the power and cell service, make sure he can't contact anyone."

"I'll handle it." Onyx says.

"Renegade will go with you."

"I don't need assistance." She snaps. I resist the urge to step away from her, because even though I want to stay far away from the angry assassin covered in knives, moving away is a sign of weakness.

"He goes with you." Slade repeats, voice sharp.

* * *

"Found the fuse box." I say. To centralize reconstruction efforts in the event that rampaging supervillains cause massive property damage, every building has multiple ways to regulate power, heat and water. It's convenient if your neighbor's fuse blows, or if you need to make sure first responders won't get electrocuted clearing out wreckage from Superman being smashed through a building by a giant robot. Metropolis can be a nightmare sometimes, and I'm saying that as a native Gothamite. Where everyone carries a spare gas mask in their car.

"Good. The apartment should be on its own circuit."

"I see it."

"Trip it on my mark."

"Wait, it's for the whole floor. Half of them have centralized power."

"It doesn't matter. Are you ready?"

I hesitate.

"You're not going to kill him, right?" I sound like a scared kid, but Slade promised. He said he wouldn't make me come on a contract.

"Correct. Ra's finds it very useful to have journalists in his debt. Jones is safe."

"And his daughter?"

"Her too." Slade continues, knowing by my silence that I'm not convinced. "This is a shakedown. Black Spider is a professional, as am I. No one will be hurt tonight."

"Fine. I'm in position."

"Cell service and wifi are blocked," Onyx reports as she joins me on the low roof. "You're ready?"

I nod. Onyx puts a hand to her comm link. "All the exits are clear. We're all set."

"Now." Slade says. I flip the breaker switch and watch the entire fifth floor of the building across the street go dark. I count to ninety and turn the power back on. That will have been more than long enough for Slade to move without doing damage to the rest of the people in the building.

I turn around in time to see a silver blade flash. I dive out of the way, just fast enough that the knife doesn't bury itself in my chest.

"What are you doing?!" I snap, pulling out my bo staff as Onyx sinks into a fighting stance, one gleaming knife in each hand.

"Cleaning up the loose ends." She snarls, a terrifying smile on her face.

Loose ends. She means me.

Ra's didn't hire Slade for this job because he needed him, he did it so his assassins could kill me. Us. I don't have enough time to figure it out before Onyx is moving again, blades hurtling through the air as she slashes and jabs. She's fast. Not as fast as Slade, but as much as Slade pushes, he's never actually tried to kill me. Onyx is aiming for weak spots. She gets in close and slices so deep that the blade tears through my gloves. At the same time, her other knife aims low and I drop my grip to defend against it.

In one motion, her knee snaps up between my body and the bo staff, allowing her to twist and step down, slamming my bo staff to the ground with her foot. She spins, grabbing me in a chokehold with a knife digging into the collar of my uniform, right over my jugular. I drop my weight, grab her wrists, and throw her off. She doesn't stay down for long. I snatch up my bo staff and spin back, activating the electricity mechanism. I watch her warily, staff raised to keep her at bay.

The bo staff doesn't do anything to stop the six inches of steel hurtling towards my head, but it is useful to bat it away. And the next one. Onyx is on top of me as soon as I deflect the second knife. I've been in some scrappy fights before, but this is totally different. She's a better fighter than me. It's obvious from the way she breaks down my attacks and constantly changes the rhythm of her movements to make it impossible to predict. But she's trying to kill me, so I'm not pulling any punches either. I'm fighting as dirty as I can, using everything I've ever learned to just keep myself alive and away from the deadly blades. I'm not the only one fighting dirty. She lands a punch under my left eye and I can feel the socket swell up while my head rings and the slash on my face starts oozing blood.

Slade isn't answering my frantic comm calls, and I can't get more than a few steps in any direction before Onyx is there, driving me back toward the unprotected center of the roof. The cuts over my body are starting to throb and my eye is so swollen that it's hard to see out of it. I've managed to get a few good hits on her too. We're both starting to slow down, but Onyx never lets up.

I duck under a wide slash and dive through her legs, rolling to my feet behind her and jabbing her in the back with my bo staff. Onyx shrieks, dropping her knives and staggering before her legs give out. I scramble for my comm, desperately hoping I'm not too late.

"Onyx just tried to kill me! It's a trap!" I practically shout into the com. Not that I care if the League of Shadows is trying to kill Slade, but they're trying to kill me too, and right now Slade is the only one who can get me out of this.

No response.

It must have been the exhaustion. That's the only explanation for how I could miss Onyx's legs snapping out to grapple me to the ground. She's on top of me, tossing my bo staff away before I can move. I struggle under the weight, but my right arm is trapped under me, digging into my back and her foot is pinning my left wrist to the ground. I have no leverage. Onyx digs her knee into my chest, knives crossed over my throat and pressing in hard against the collar of my uniform. Sweat drips down my face and I hold as still as I can. If I move, I'll cut my own throat.

The knives are right over my carotid artery and my jugular. All she has to do is swipe and I'll bleed out in less than thirty seconds. Slade isn't answering.

I'm dead.

And then the hardened battle mask slips off Onyx's face and she smiles. The promise of violence in her eyes evaporates in the same instant that the knives lift off my throat.

What?

"Not bad." Onyx smiles, stepping back and sheathing her knives at her waist. In one fluid motion, she grabs my arm and pulls me up. I flinch at the contact, but all the murderous intent is totally gone. The hostile mannerisms from before are gone too, and now she's almost being friendly. "He's trained you well."

What?

"That was a test?" I breathe, trying to hold my balance so I don't fall over. It's been a long time since I've fought someone trying that hard to kill me.

"You passed." She answers, a pleased gleam in her eyes. "I'll be honest, when I saw you, I wasn't sure you would."

"You were trying to kill me."

"Of course. It wouldn't have been much of a test if I went easy on you, now would it?"

"Ra's sent you here to test me?" I guess, hands still trembling from the shock.

"If it makes you feel better, Black Spider is giving Deathstroke a test of his own."

Slade must have known. Why else would he drag me out of bed at two in the morning with no warning? He wanted me to be off guard, otherwise I would've figured out something was wrong.

"What about the treasure? Or was that just a cover to get us out here?"

"Oh the treasure is real. Black Spider might be an incompetent moron, but he was right about one thing; it doesn't take four assassins to get one journalist in the midst of his midlife crisis to spill a source. Besides, the retrieval is the fun part."

"Status report."

I almost jump a foot into the air at Slade's voice over the com. In the panic of the last few terrifying seconds, I forgot that I have an earpiece in each ear.

"Status report?! Onyx just tried to kill me!" I hiss as I turn away, trying to keep my voice quiet enough she can't listen in. As much as it freaks me out to have my back to her, she had a chance to kill me and she didn't. So I'm probably safe around her for now.

"I see you survived. How long did you last?"

"How long… you knew she was going to try and kill me?!"

"Test you."

"Wait, you knew she would beat me?"

Slade lets out a huff of air that's his version of a laugh.

"Onyx has been one of the League's most effective assassins for the past twenty-four years. You're skilled, but she has three times the experience. Staying alive in battle against her is no small feat."

"And what if I hadn't passed?" I spit. "She would've killed me!"

"Which is exactly why your debut waited until I knew you were ready."

Onyx steps closer and I stiffen. She shoots a wry grin at me and taps her own earpiece.

"Torment your apprentice later, Deathstroke. We're on a time limit. Get the name and get out."

"Black Spider has that under control. I've located some choice documents I believe Ra's will be interested in."

"Good. Wrap it up, the wifi and cell service come back online in two minutes." Onyx reminds them, just as a soft roar cuts through the sounds of a city at night. We hear it at the same time and freeze. My stomach drops.

I know that sound. It's the Invisible Jet.

No. No, no, no, no, no this is bad. I had to fake Green Arrow with a grenade to escape at Hizer and that was bad enough. If Wonder Woman is really here… coming to stop us… that's bad. That's BAD.

Aunt Diana cannot see me here. It's not just that she's Wonder Woman, an immortal, invulnerable, Amazonian Princess with super strength, flight and a lasso that commands the truth…

Holy shit. The Lasso of Truth.

If she uses it on me, that's it. I'll confess everything; I literally won't be able to stop myself. Slade might understand if I'm magically compelled to admit that I've been working for him for four years and lying to my family and the entire Justice League the whole time. But chances are, he'll take it out on me anyway.

"What's wrong with you?" Onyx asks.

"Wonder Woman." I answer, squeezing my hands into fists so I have something to focus on besides the panic blooming in my chest.

"Ah. Yes, that is bad." Onyx agrees. I raise a hand to my comm link, the one in my left ear that only Slade can hear.

"Wonder Woman incoming."

"Where?"

"The jet just passed overhead."

"Are you sure it's her?"

"Yes." I hiss, anxious terror pounding in my chest. "There is no plane in the world that sounds like it."

"Where are you now?"

"With Onyx. We're on the next roof."

"Do you have the name?" Onyx demands over the other channel, bringing her and Black Spider back into the conversation.

"We've got it. Bernell put up a bit of a fight at first, but he's agreed to be reasonable."

"Good. What's the play?"

"We need a distraction. Wonder Woman isn't the type to walk away empty-handed." Slade says.

"Your time to shine, Spider."

"No. You are not fucking throwing me at the God Lady, no fucking way!" Black Spider protests.

"Either you do it, or you're the reason this mission goes down. The Demon's Head wants Jones alive; if Wonder Woman gets to him, she and all the rest of the League find out where our treasure is. We have to get there first. Now stop being a little bitch and let the Amazon beat the shit out of you." Onyx snaps over the line.

Black Spider spits out a few choice words and finally gives in.

"Fine. Fifteen seconds, on your mark."

"Stay with Onyx." Slade orders over the private channel. In the other ear, he tells us, "The source is Paolo Riviera. He works at the port, uncovered a shipment of jewels and switched the labels to get them stored away while he alerted the media. Jones didn't know the crate number, but the shipment was stored on Monday. Renegade can get into the system and find it. I'll meet you there."

"Understood." Onyx says, readjusting her wrist guards and looking at me to make sure I'm ready to move. I nod at her. Just before the chaos breaks loose, I tap the private comm with Slade.

"You'd better not have been lying about talking to Superboy." I hiss.

"You have my word. As soon as the shipment is retrieved and our friends are on their way, I will make sure you catch his attention. So long as you promise to take one precaution…"

"Now!" Onyx calls.

* * *

Conner Kent

Metropolis

* * *

"Superboy, come in."

"I'm here. How's Ghana?"

"Amazing, actually. Lois is not loving the heat, but I've haven't felt this good since the last time I flew around the sun." Clark said. Superboy grinned.

"Sounds nice."

"How are things back home?"

"Quiet so far. But I'll let you know if anything changes."

"I really appreciate you filling in."

"No problem." Superboy said, giving Sphere a pat.

"Has Diana called in yet?"

"Not yet. Is she sure it's happening tonight?"

"She was sure it's happening sometime this week." Clark answered.

"Can you remind me again what it is again? I couldn't really follow when she explained it."

"Bernell Jones works for the Planet. He's been working on a big story about an ancient treasure that resurfaced in the last week. Wonder Woman claims the treasure belonged to an ancient Amazonian warrior and it was stolen in the third century. She's been looking for it for hundreds of years and this is the first lead."

"Huh. Sounds like a big deal. I'll keep an eye out."

"Thank you, Superboy. Call me if you need anything."

"Got it. Have fun with Lois."

It was shaping up to be a quiet night patrolling Metropolis before Superboy's com link chirped at him.

"The power just went out in Jones' building." Wonder Woman reported in his ear. "They're moving now."

"I'm on the way." Superboy answered, ready to see some action after hours of bored pacing and short hops between roofs. Sphere shifted into super-cycle mode with a beep and seconds later they were in the air. Wonder Woman was ahead of him, so it wasn't much of a surprise to see her already on the roof of the building, sparring with a guy dressed in purple.

Superboy landed the cycle on the rooftop, a little harder than he meant to, but it was still a softer landing than if he'd jumped. The last thing he wanted to do right now was cave-in the roof of an apartment building with people inside.

"Get Jones to safety!" Wonder Woman said calmly, ducking under a line and using her lasso to catch the guy's leg and drag him off his feet. "I've got this handled."

Superboy turned around to see Bernell Jones, Clark's coworker at the Daily Planet, cowering behind an air duct.

"Come on!" Superboy said, holding out his hand to help him into the super-cycle.

"My daughter's downstairs! I'm not going anywhere without her!" Bernell jerked back, staring at Superboy with wide eyes.

"What floor?"

"Fifth floor. That side window!" Bernell pointed towards the side where Wonder Woman and the assassin were still fighting.

"Alright. Come on." Superboy half-dragged Bernell into the super-cycle, and flying them both to the fifth floor. Superboy leaned over and pushed the window up, making sure that the broken glass was cleared out. "I'll get her. Sphere, defense mode."

The super-cycle beeped as Sphere reconfigured to activate its weapons systems. Superboy climbed through the window into a little girl's bedroom. The lights were on and Superboy could see how hard the window had been smashed open from the pattern of broken glass littering the floor. The door was still intact, which meant the assassin had broken the window from the outside and dragged Jones through it and up onto the roof. What Superboy didn't see was a little girl. But when he concentrated, he could hear a frantic heartbeat and muffled sobs coming from inside the closet.

"It's safe to come out now." Superboy said calmly. "I'm Superboy, I'm here with Wonder Woman and your dad. I'm here to take you and your dad somewhere safe. Nobody's going to hurt you."

"Are they gone?" The little girl whimpered, still not moving from her hiding spot.

"It's just me in here. Wonder Woman is on the roof, she's catching the guy who took your dad."

"What about the scary guy?"

Superboy froze. There were two attackers?

He listened as hard as he could, but his enhanced hearing only picked up the neighbors complaining about the power outage. Infrared didn't show anyone else in the apartment either.

"They're gone. It's safe to come out, okay? I'm going to take you and your dad somewhere safe."

Finally, a tear-stained little girl emerged from the closet.

"You did a good job hiding," Superboy told her. "Can I pick you up? I don't want you to step on glass."

Sniffling, the girl nodded and Superboy hefted her up in one arm. He'd barely made it to the window when Bernell shouted, "Cissie! Oh, thank god!"

"Daddy!" Cissie cried, and as soon as Superboy had passed her through the open window, she latched onto her dad and buried her face in his coat. Sphere took off, taking them to the safe house and Superboy turned to Bernell. "What happened? Cissie said there were multiple people in your apartment."

Bernell's face lost all its color and he nodded. "They killed the power and broke in when I was in the living room. Cissie got scared at the dark and I told her to go hide. They wanted to know who my source was."

"For the treasure?"

Bernell nodded frantically, glassing slipping off his sweat-soaked face. "I… I had no choice, they were going to kill both of us if I didn't!"

"You did what you had to." Superboy stopped him.

"They knew you were coming. As soon as the jet flew in, the orange one scrammed and the purple guy pulled me out Cissie's window."

"The orange guy?" Superboy froze, dread sinking in his stomach. "Orange and black, one eye, lots of swords?"

Bernell nodded. "That's him!"

Oh no.

"Wonder Woman, there was more than one assassin. Deathstroke was here, he already got the name!"

"Zeus' bolt!" Wonder Woman swore, sounding more upset than he'd ever heard her. "Do you know where he's going?!"

"I told them my source works at the shipping yard! That's everything I knew!"

"The treasure must have come in by boat. They're heading to the shipping yard." Superboy relayed.

"Law enforcement isn't here yet!" Wonder Woman snapped, "I can't leave Black Spider unguarded!"

"You go. Sphere will get the Jones' out and I'll stay with the assassin."

"Thank you, Superboy!" Wonder Woman said. Superboy patted the super-cycle and said, "Get them to safety."

He turned to Bernell, who still had a death grip around Cissie, and nodded at him. "Sphere will take you to the safe house. Wait for Wonder Woman or Superman to tell you when it's safe."

With that, he jumped over the side of the super-cycle and plummeted down towards Metropolis' rooftops. He landed in the middle of a street with a tiny crater and jumped up into the air again, heading back for the Jones' apartment building. In the distance, he saw Wonder Woman zooming off towards the harbor to stop the assassins from getting away.

This was her fight. His job was making sure Black Spider didn't slip away too. Luckily, he was still unconscious and hogtied by the Lasso of Truth exactly where Wonder Woman had left him. All things considered, the building didn't look too bad.

Superboy found a spot on the roof to sit, keeping one eye on the assassin while he waited for the police to arrive. He was starting to wonder if the cops even knew to come when he finally heard the shrill wail of the sirens and saw the flashing lights in the distance. Superboy stood up and slung Black Spider over his shoulder before jumping off the roof. He landed in the street in front of the building about a minute before the police cars pulled to a stop.

The officers got out of the car and looked at Superboy.

"This him?"

"Yeah. He pulled one of the residents out a window. We think he was working with others, Wonder Woman is in pursuit now."

"Got it. We'll call him in." The lead officer gestured for one of the others to cuff Black Spider and put him in the back of the car. "You're Superboy, right?"

"That's me."

The officer held out his hand.

"Good to meet you. Superman said we might see you around."

Superboy beamed.

"We think the others may have gone to the shipping yard."

"Dispatch just sent some of our boys over there." The officer nodded.

"Good." Superboy said, suddenly unsure what else to say but fairly sure this was when he was supposed to leave. "Uh… good night."

With that, he turned and jumped into the air, vaulting over a skyscraper and landing on a roof where he could see the whole city.

"Black Spider's in custody. Should I come to you?" Superboy asked Wonder Woman over his comm.

"Yes, the trail's gone cold and I need another set of ey—"

She cut off as an explosion rocked the building Superboy was standing on. He heard shouts of alarm, but as soon as the noise and shaking started, they were over.

"What was that?" Wonder Woman asked.

"Explosion a few blocks away."

"Go check it out. Call me know if you need backup. And be careful, there's still no sign of Deathstroke."

"You don't have to tell me twice." Superboy said, stretching quickly before taking two steps and launching himself off the roof in the direction of the explosion.

Superboy followed the billowing plumes of smoke to a construction site nested between towering skyscrapers. He landed in the excavated pit underneath the frame of the new building, looking for the culprit. There was a flash of movement on the partially constructed third floor, so Superboy jumped up to get a closer look. The smell of smoke lingered in the air and in the darkness, his normal vision was mostly useless. The metal framework, cranes, and stacks of building materials left plenty of places to hide. The explosion had left the frame smoking and chunks of debris kept falling from up above.

Superboy heard a loud click and his head snapped up.

On the scaffold three stories up, a figure spun his staff in a whirling figure eight. Superboy picked up a sack of concrete aggregate and threw it, trying to knock him off balance before he jumped up to his level. But the guy knocked the bag away with his staff and kept his stance. Metahuman, then, if he could hit a forty-pound bag flying at top speed without budging.

Superboy dropped into a fighting stance across from the guy. Up close, Superboy could see that he was young, probably around fifteen or sixteen. He was wearing an orange and black suit, which made Superboy pause. Bernell had been attacked by someone in black and orange, so maybe Deathstroke hadn't been in Metropolis at all. Maybe this was the other assassin who'd gone after the treasure.

"What do you want?" Superboy asked. The kid didn't answer. He swung his bo staff again and charged. Superboy was instantly on the defense, just trying to keep up. The kid was seriously fast. And strong. When the staff made contact, it stung. But now that they had moved into the light, Superboy could see that the kid was hurt. His uniform was covered in cuts and the blood had dried and crusted over. His face was swollen around his eye and a bruise covered the entire right side of his face.

"Who are you?" Superboy demanded, blocking another hit while trying to get close enough to disarm him. "What do you want?"

The kid still didn't answer and kept attacking, the whole time staying just beyond Superboy's reach. Superboy felt himself getting frustrated, especially once he realized the kid was probably trying to keep him busy. Wonder Woman was still at the shipping yard, looking for the treasure. Superboy should have been there helping her, but instead he was here.

"Who are you working with?" Superboy demanded, trying to charge the kid and catch him off balance. The kid sidestepped and flipped up into the air, catching a bar of the scaffold with his hand and climbing up to the next floor of the building. Superboy was about to follow when another explosion rocked the building, this time destroying a support beam up above. With a loud rumble, the scaffold above them started to crumble apart. The kid froze, staring straight up at the rubble about to fall on him.

"Look out!" Superboy shouted, throwing himself into action. He flew into the air, tackled the kid and shoved both of them out of the way, making sure to shield the kid with his body. Debris rained down on them both and Superboy blocked it as best as he could, trying to keep the other boy safe.

When it stopped, Superboy pushed himself up and cleared away the chunks of metal, concrete and plaster.

"Are you okay?" Superboy demanded, looking down at the kid. His face was pale and he was bleeding, but just from the cuts that had reopened. He hadn't been hurt by the explosion.

"Tumesalvasteporque." The kid said in a rush, too fast for Superboy to follow.

"Uh…"

"Hablas español?" His voice was shaky and quiet, but he sounded determined.

"Uh… más despacio."

"Eres el Superboy?"

"Sí."

The kid nodded grimly, pushing himself back to his feet. He swayed a little when he stood, leaning on his staff for support. Superboy was impressed that he'd managed to hold onto it in the explosion.

"Lex Luthor quiere usarte para encontrar los chimorfos."

"The whats? Wait, do you mean Genomorphs?"

"Sí, esos. Cuídate. El clon es una trampa para ti, y tu eres una trampa para el Dublix."

"Dubbilex? What about him?"

"Los chi…genomorphos perdidos… lo hizo."

"The genomorphs are missing?"

The kid nodded.

"What do I do?"

"No sé pero… cuidado con el Matchstick. Cosas no son lo que parecen."

"What do you mean?"

"No confíes en Luthor. Buena suerte."

"Wait!" Superboy called, but it was too late. The kid had vanished, leaving Superboy with a million questions.

* * *

Onyx

Four miles from the Metropolis Penitentiary

* * *

The van thumped as something heavy landed on top of it. The guards tightened their grips on their weapons, aiming at the door.

Thunk. Thunk. The guards slumped over, dead before they had a chance to move. The woman pulled each of her knives out, wiping them on the guards' uniforms before stowing them in the belt at her waist.

"Good work." She said to the man cuffed to the van bench as she helped him out of the shackles.

"Mission successful?" He asked, rubbing his wrists. He looked around for the box containing his personal items and began pulling them on as soon as he found it.

"Everything was where Jones said. We got the crate on a boat and cleared out. It's on its way to Nada Parbat as we speak."

"Nice."

"Are you ready?" Onyx asked. Black Spider nodded, pulling his mask over his face to complete his uniform. As the two rode away from the fiery explosion that had once been a prisoner transfer van by balancing on top of a cargo train, Black Spider turned to his rescuer.

"Next time, you get to be the decoy."

"But you're so good at it."

"I'm the decoy every time!"

"Because you're good at it." Onyx repeated, grinning at him with none of the exaggerated malice they used in their act.

"How'd the kid do?" Black Spider asked curiously.

"He's good." Onyx answered. "Young. Wilson wasn't playing around; the kid packs a serious punch. He's going to be better than all of us soon."

"Please. No one's better than you." Black Spider shook his head.

"I'm serious. But I will say his survival instincts are messed up; the little fucker bit me to get out of a hold. Did whatever it took to stay alive. Ten minutes later, Wilson tells him to stick with me and he doesn't even blink."

"That's obvious, O. His survival instincts are, 'Do whatever the hell Wilson tells him.'"

"Poor kid." Onyx tsked.

"Yeah. That about covers it."

They dropped off the train as it rushed past a forest, rolling to disperse the momentum with the ease of a thousand repetitions. The woods were dark and loud, full of the sounds of nocturnal life. The two assassins moved quietly and quickly through the trees toward the hidden compound, emerging from the woods to a dozen swords pointed at them. Upon recognizing them, their fellow Shadows dropped their weapons and took up honor guard positions to accompany them to the building in the center of the compound. Within minutes, they were striding through the halls of the Great Demon and were granted permission to enter the throne room.

Onyx and Black Spider each dropped to a knee before the throne, heads bowed low.

"Demon's Head." They chorused together, before rising when Ra's al Ghul gestured for them to do so. Onyx nodded to the man standing behind him.

"Sensei."

"Lady Onyx."

"The news recently has been dreadful. I hope you have something good to report." Ra's said.

"I do. The mission was a success. The Hoard of the Seven Hands has been recovered and is on a ship headed for Nanda Parbat. In addition, the journalist Bernell Jones has agreed to act as a speaker for the great word of the Demon when it is requested of him." Onyx said.

"Excellent." Ra's said. "And the other matter?"

Onyx gestured for Black Spider to start.

"Deahtstroke called all the shots." He said. "I hate to say it, but everything worked exactly the way he said it would. He got us both in and knew exactly what to say to make Bernell talk. I was gonna throw him off the roof, but he just mentioned his ex-wife and had the guy singing. Told us everything we wanted to know and then some. We still would've found out if he hadn't been there, but not before the local authorities showed up."

"And locating the Hoard?"

"We called our crews to bring a ship in to port before we left the building. Once we got into the records, it was simple to find the correct crate, verify its contents and load it onto our vessel. It was done before Wonder Woman arrived on scene." Onyx said.

"And she did not suspect a trap when Black Spider was the only one at the journalist's home?" Ra's asked curiously.

"She thought I was just there to kill him. Superboy showed up to take care of Jones, otherwise she wouldn't have known to go to the shipping yard until for hours."

"Excellent work." Ra's said, visibly pleased. He turned to Onyx. "And the boy? I trust Wilson brought his student along."

"Renegade." Onyx nodded. "He's smart. Found the right power supply, perfect timing on Deathstroke's call."

"As I have heard nothing about his demise, I assume he survived trial by combat? Tell me, how long did he last?"

"Seven minutes and twelve seconds." Onyx smiled.

"Seven twelve?!" Black Spider choked. "Jesus, that's only fifteen seconds under Shiva's time!"

"That is most impressive." Sensei agreed, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

"I suspect it would've been longer in unarmed combat." Onyx added. Ra's still hadn't said anything. The Demon's Head was lost in thought.

"One capable agent is worth an army of hired men." He mused slowly before returning his attention to his assassins. "You both have done excellent work. Now leave me, I have much to think about."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha yikes! Poor M'gann. Poor Dick. Honestly, poor everyone. I wonder what Superboy will find when he looks into this new information...
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! Please leave me a comment and let me know what you think! If you're enjoying this story, stay tuned, we're building toward something really big and I think the next three chapters are going to blow your socks off!
> 
> Rough Spanish Translation:
> 
> Tumesalvasteporque: "Yousavedme,why?"
> 
> Hablas español: "Do you speak Spanish?"
> 
> Uh... más despacio: "Uh ... talk slower."
> 
> Eres el Superboy: "Are you the Superboy?"
> 
> Sí: "Yes."
> 
> Lex Luthor quiere usarte para encontrar los chimorfos: "Lex Luthor wants to use you to find the chimorfos."
> 
> Sí, esos. Cuídate. El clon es una trampa para ti, y tu eres una trampa para el Dublix: "Yes, those. Be careful. The clone is a trap for you, and you are a trap for the Dublix."
> 
> Los chi…genomorphos perdidos… lo hizo: "The chi ... lost genomorphs ... he did it."
> 
> No sé pero… cuidado con el Matchstick. Cosas no son lo que parecen: "I don't know but ... watch out for the Matchstick. Things are not what they seem."
> 
> No confíes en Luthor. Buena suerte: "Don't trust Luthor. Good luck."


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back. This chapter is one part history lesson on the Cold War, one part homage to other comic characters, one part cheaply executed Heist movie, one part people yelling at each other, one part Batman being a detective, one part "the child finally goes to therapy" and one part evil villains being sinister without actually doing much. I hope you enjoy each of these parts and everything in between.

Wally West

Abandoned Weigh Station, Happy Harbor

Thursday, December 30th, 2012

* * *

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I was really hoping you weren't going to show." Wally said.

"I wish I didn't have to." Megan frowned, wrapping her arms around herself.

Wally took a deep breath and puffed out his cheeks before pushing the air out with a huff, but there was no point delaying the inevitable.

"How long have you known?"

"A long time." Megan's shoulders slumped as she sat at one of the tables by the wall. The building was a mess, but there was plenty of discarded furniture to sit on. "I read his mind accidentally when the team had just formed. I didn't mean to and what I saw was so confusing that I really didn't know what I was looking at. By the time I realized that the thing I'd seen was something bad, I was so ashamed that I invaded his privacy. I didn't know what to do so I talked to him. I told him everything I'd seen and he told me what was really going on."

"He just told you everything? Just like that?"

"It was different back then. The way that Deathstroke treats him now, it wasn't like that before. Dick trusted him. He really did. I was so scared that someone was hurting him and he told me he wanted Slade to train him."

Megan looked up at him, eyes burning with guilt.

"He made me promise not to tell anyone. And I was so confused because I'd only been on Earth for a few weeks and I was so guilty about reading his mind and relieved that he wasn't in danger, that I promised. I even…" Megan's voice wavered, tears welling up in her eyes. "…I told him a secret in exchange. To prove to him I wouldn't tell."

Wally felt his stomach sink as pieces fell into place. Megan running out of Dick's room crying, one secret exchanged for another.

"Mutually assured destruction." He said.

"What is that?" Megan asked, tears dripping slowly down her face.

"During the Cold War, America and the Soviet Union were stockpiling nuclear weapons. It was an arms race to become the most powerful. But even though there were enough weapons to kill everyone on the planet fifteen times over, both countries knew they could never use their nukes for fear of retaliation. Kennedy called it Mutually Assured Destruction."

Megan didn't answer, she just stared at him.

"You threatened to tell the League, didn't you?" Wally asked. Megan nodded and he closed his eyes, a swell of sadness washing over him. "And he threatened you with your secret."

"Yeah." Megan whispered.

"Jesus." Wally sat down heavily on a table. "Meg, I'm so sorry."

"I feel so stupid, I never should've threatened him. I just want to help him."

"It's messed up."

"There has to be something we can do! We know what's going on. We know that he's being threatened, we know who's doing it and we know what Deathstroke's threats are. We should be able to help him instead of just watching it all happen!"

"The whole thing is beyond fucked up. Megan, this has never happened before. Yeah, we fight bad guys, we've dealt with some really dangerous people, but this is different. This is personal. Deathstroke doesn't want to take over the world or ransom a nuclear stockpile for a hundred billion dollars. He wants Robin and he's not fighting fair. Dick has younger siblings. He has friends. And us, you know that he would die for us. Because we did. Rob and I went down fighting trying to protect the world from destruction." Wally got up and started to pace, too anxious to keep sitting down.

"That's what's so messed up about it. Deathstroke is using us against him. He held a loaded gun to my head and said he'd kill me if I got in his way again. If Dick doesn't do what he says, he'll make him. I'm terrified every single day that he'll decide to come after me or my parents or my friends, and he doesn't give a shit about me. Dick has been living in terror for years."

"So there's nothing we can do?" She demanded.

"No, I'm not saying that. I just… have no idea what to do. I don't know how to fix this."

"There has to be something! What if we tell Batman?"

"That only works if we can be sure Deathstroke can't get to either Robin or his siblings." Wally thought of the mathlete's trophy cabinet in Gotham Academy and the picture of a younger Dick beaming with his arms around his fellow nerds. "Or his friends."

"You think he would go after his civilian friends?" Megan asked, horrified.

"No question."

"Then there has to be some way to deal with Deathstroke directly!"

"I know it seems impossible, but we have to assume he's thought of everything we might be able to come up with, because if we're wrong… it's life and death."

"He's just one man. He can't have thought of everything! There has to be something! What if we send the League after him?"

"I already tried. Remember Lisbon? He beat half the Justice League with no warning or prep time. And he will literally murder us all if we go up against him again. That's not an exaggeration; he told me that after he shot me in S.T.A.R. Labs."

"So we can't tell the League what's going on and we can't get rid of Deathstroke. What do we do?"

Wally pinched his lips together, weighing his options carefully.

"Robin had a plan. I don't like it, but it's the best he could come up with."

"What is it?"

"He gives himself up. This whole thing started when Deathstroke saved him from a fire and brought him to a safehouse. Their original deal was that Deathstroke would let him go if he agreed to work for him. If he goes with him permanently, Deathstroke has no reason to hurt his family. Especially if he pretends to cooperate. As soon as he disappears, we protect the people he'd target, we find Robin, and we bring him home. Whatever it takes. I don't know when it's going to happen, but it can't be much longer."

Megan looked stricken and Wally's heart sunk into his throat.

"What?" He asked, more than a little terrified at the answer.

"He tried."

The room was silent.

"What?" Wally somehow managed to choke out.

"He went to Deathstroke's hideout knowing he wouldn't leave."

Wally knew he was staring, his jaw hanging open in shock.

"He told me Deathstroke offered him a new deal, one where he gets to pass information to the team. He said it was the best case scenario."

"When did this happen?"

"I don't know, Wally. A few weeks ago, I think."

"Weeks?!" Wally sputtered. "No, that can't be right. It can't be. He would've told me. He would've said something if the plan changed, unless it didn't and he's still planning to…"

Wally collapsed onto the nearest chair, the wind going out of him as the realization sunk in.

"He wasn't going to tell me. He… he lied to me."

Megan crossed the distance between them, slowly reaching out to put her hand on his shoulder while she crouched to meet him at eye level.

"Wally... Dick is done. He's given up on himself, all he wants is to keep us safe from Deathstroke. If someone is going to get him out of this, it has to be us. It's up to us to save him."

Wally took a deep breath, letting the words absorb. Megan was right. And as much as it killed him to think of Dick giving up on anything, she'd exposed the truth he'd been hiding from. Dick was the victim here, he needed to be saved.

Wally took a deep breath and pulled himself together, somehow drawing himself to his feet.

"Okay. There has to be some way we can take away his leverage. What does Deathstroke have over him?"

Megan was silent.

"I know the answer is basically everything imaginable, but we have to go through everything logically if we're going to untangle this."

Megan nodded.

"Dick is scared that Deathstroke will try to hurt his friends and family."

"And we can't protect all of them because that includes us, his family and all of his civilian friends."

"And the circus."

"And the circus." Wally agreed. "So, way too many targets and unknowns. What if we try to track Deathstroke down and specifically go after him?"

"We'll need the whole League. All the power we have, plus they'll need to know what they're really up against."

"So we have to tell the League everything if we want to have a chance of beating Deathstroke."

"But the problem is, there might still be a leak. And if Deathstroke finds out that the whole League knows, he will A: kidnap Dick and we never hear from him again, B: go after his friends and family which brings us back to problem one, or C: use the threat of killing his loved ones to blackmail Dick into 'voluntarily' being kidnapped."

"So who can we be sure isn't a mole?"

"Batman." Wally said. "Aside from the fact that he's Batman, Dick has spent the last four years trying to keep it a secret from him. Superman too. Deathstroke knew his secret identity and practically shouted it at the League. That's how he does misdirection; gives an obvious target so that you don't notice the other five going on behind you. It's the same reason he left Aqualad behind; he had to act unpredictably so they wouldn't realize he was after me and Robin."

Megan nodded.

"Wonder Woman."

"Are you sure?"

"Remember the night Wolf jumped on him?"

"Yeah? Wait, don't tell me that had something to do with this."

"There were texts on his phone that would've given away everything. Somehow Wolf knew and tried to stop it. He knew Wonder Woman and Superman were in the Cave that night, he must have known they could help."

"Smart dog." Wally shook his head. "No wonder Rob's been avoiding Wolf. I can't remember if I've even seen them in the same room since then."

"Do you think the three of them are enough?"

"Honestly? No. But if they know what's really going on, they'll be able to help. They can figure out a way to fix everything."

"Now all I have to do is figure out a way to meet with them without raising anyone's suspicions."

"It'll be easier for me to get a meeting." Wally protested.

"You said Deathstroke is watching you. If he finds out, he'll kill you."

"And if you do it, you risk Dick telling everyone your secret."

"I don't care."

"What?"

"I am not going to be blackmailed. If the League sends me back to Mars for it, then at least I know my friends are safe. You guys are what matter."

"Megan…"

"Besides, I knew I'd have to tell it eventually. After…" She trailed off, going quiet for a few seconds before steeling herself. "In Bialya, Queen Bee found out. She tried to blackmail me and I let her think it worked so she would let us leave."

"Meg, you don't have to do this." Wally told her, trying to give her one last way out. But his teammate stood firm, confidence written on her face in permanent marker.

"I do. When we were in Bialya, you asked me what I really look like. I lied because I was scared. I'm not scared anymore. Not of this."

With that, her body started to expand. Green skin bleached to white so pale it glowed in the poor light, bulbous red muscle bloomed out of her spine and the figure kept getting taller and bonier until a creature from a Steven King novel loomed over him. Wally flinched, his back hitting the wall. The towering white alien stood proudly even as it looked down at its claw-like talons.

"Meg?" Wally asked cautiously, moving closer even as he cursed himself for reflexively running.

'_I know what I look like.' _Megan's voice sounded exactly the same in his head, and that was all he needed for the tension to evaporate. Wally tried to think of a joke to lighten the mood, but even he knew how serious the moment was. _'I used to think I was a monster. My whole life, everyone told me I was for so long that I believed it. But I've met real monsters now. I've seen the suffering caused by people who choose to be cruel and whose greed leaves nothing but pain behind. I can't change what I am, but I can choose to do the right thing.'_

Wally moved forwards and threw his arms around his friend. She stiffened sharply before wrapping her bony arms around him.

"You're not a monster. You're a hero. But even if you weren't, you're one of my best friends."

Wally could practically hear the telepathic sigh before Megan said, _'I know you were scared. Thank you.'_

She trailed off, but he could hear the "for not running away" as clearly as if she'd said it out loud. With one last look at her claws, Megan started to shrink and fold in on herself before the green-skinned teen reappeared.

"Are you okay?" Wally asked her cautiously.

"I will be. If we can save Dick, I will be."

"Okay." Wally nodded, repeating the word for what felt like the millionth time that night ashe pushed through the hailstorm of emotions. "Did we forget anything?"

"There's another big thing. Deathstroke knows his secret identity. In the bioship, when we were coming back from Geneva, Dick and I had a fight." Megan paused. "Do you know? About the…"

She trailed off, pointing at the inside of her arm. It took Wally a full second to realize what she was saying.

"Drugs?!" He demanded, heart churning out a thousand beats a second.

"No. Not like that, it's some kind of chemical. Parasite took our powers; that's how he figured out I was a Martian, but he said he recognized the 'taste' as some kind of experimental acceleration serum."

"Deahtstroke has been giving him the serum?!" Wally yelped.

"Dick wasn't sure what it was. He said he had no memory of being injected with anything, but he…" Megan's hands balled into fist. "We started yelling at each other and he told me there was no point worrying about it. That even if Deathstroke really was injecting him with chemicals, there was nothing he could do about it."

"We have to figure out what it is. Meg, this is bad. Deathstroke was involved in a top-secret military project to recreate the super-soldier serum. Remember Captain America?"

"The comic book character?"

"He's based on a real guy. Steve Rogers, served in World War II in the 107th, you know what? History lesson later. The point is, the scientist who created the formula was killed and everyone thought it was lost forever. In the early sixties, the super-soldier project got restarted and they dragged in a bunch of new volunteers for human trials. Forty candidates. Slade Wilson was the only survivor. The next best candidate made it three months past the injection before he killed himself. The serum that made Captain America? This is not it. If something goes wrong, Dick could literally drop dead on the spot."

Megan looked sick.

"But if it's so dangerous, Deathstroke wouldn't risk it, right? He's been blackmailing Dick for years, he wouldn't risk accidentally killing him!"

"I don't know but that is NOT a chance I'm willing to take. We have to get a blood sample, figure out what the hell Deathstroke injected him with, and find some kind of antidote." Easy, right? Wally's lips curled in bitterness. They'd need Batman for that part; there wasn't any way to ask your friend for their blood without raising every alarm in existence. "Jesus, we haven't even gotten to the whole secret identity thing."

"I actually might have an idea. For that part."

"What?" Wally asked, absolutely desperate for a tiny bit of good news.

"Dick Grayson can't be Robin if they're two different people. Just like Bruce Wayne can't be Batman if there's video of the two of them together."

"We stage a public appearance." Wally's eyes went wide at the thought. "Not just Bruce and his Batman stand in. Robin and Dick too. But how do we… I mean, it has to be perfect."

"I've been practicing." Megan said, holding out her arms as her body rippled and changed forms. Gone were the obvious differences from the last time she attempted it. Instead, Wally was looking at a mirror image of his best friend, every detail in place. "I can't get the voice right, but if we could get a recording somehow, I can synch it up."

"That's good. That's a good start." Wally said. "One step at a time, but I promise you, we're going to fix this. We'll figure out a way to stop Deathstroke once and for all."

* * *

Dick Grayson

Mount Justice

* * *

"Superboy, I got your message. What do you need?" Zatanna asks, walking into the hangar. "Oh, hey Robin."

"Hey Zee." I turn to Superboy, too tired to fake a grin. He pats Sphere a few times and with a beep, it unfurls into the super-cycle.

"I thought it might be fun to go take a flight. Would you guys come with?"

"Uh… sure?" Zee answers.

Superboy wouldn't really call me all the way to the Cave for a joy ride. There must be something else going on.

"I'm in."

We're flying over the Harbor when Zatanna asks, "So why'd you really ask us out here?"

Superboy grins. "Busted, huh? I need to break into Lex Corp."

"Okay." I shrug.

"Why?" Zatanna asks. "Besides, isn't that illegal?"

"And stealing DNA and using it to make sentient clones as weapons isn't?"

"Fair point, I'll give you that."

"I went back to Cadmus." Superboy says. I choke on my breath but it only takes a few seconds to get back under control. I knew something like this would happen. "Something's not right there. I think Luthor is still running it and he's hiding some things."

"Well, duh, it's Lex Luthor." Zee raises an eyebrow. I can't make my mouth work, so instead I point at Zee to second what she said.

"What happened at Cadmus?" I ask, after Superboy's silence gives me a chance to breathe. "And, what made you think it was a good idea to go back in the first place?"

"It's complicated." Superboy says. "Remember Dubbilex?"

"Blue guy with the glowy horns?" I know how loudly my heart is pounding, but if Superboy notices, he'll just think I'm remembering our dramatic rescue-escape from Cadmus the first time.

"Yeah. He asked for my help. A failed experiment got loose and was causing massive damage to the facilities."

"Hang on, how the hell does Cadmus still exist?!" Zee demands. "It's an evil cloning facility owned by Lex Luthor."

"Because it's owned by Lex Luthor." I remind her.

"Basically." Superboy agrees. "Dubbilex asked for my help, so I went. I… owe him. It's complicated, like I said."

"Makes sense to me." Zee nods.

"I found the experiment, we fought and, in the end, I was able to get him under control. Luthor was waiting for me outside. It turned out that Dubbilex was helping to hide genomorphs and get them out of the facility. Luthor wanted to find them, so he set Match loose. He knew Dubbilex would get me to help since he trusts me and… since Match is like me. A clone of Superman."

"What?!" Zatanna practically shouts.

"Except something went wrong when they made him. He's alive and he's angry, but that's about it."

"So when you said you got him under control…" I ask slowly.

"I helped Dubbliex put him back in a pod." Superboy's hands tighten into fists and his face twists up in guilt. "He can't be loose. It's too dangerous and to just keep him chained up… I couldn't do it."

"I'm so sorry, Superboy."

"Why are we going to LexCorp? I mean, shouldn't we be storming Cadmus? We can't just let Luthor keep a mini psycho Kryptonian." Zee asks.

"Remember how I told you it was complicated?" Superboy asks. We nod. "It was a setup. The whole thing was a ploy so that Luthor could find the missing genomorphs. And it worked. The thing is… I knew it was. Or at least, someone told me. I was covering patrol in Metropolis for Superman a little while ago and I ran into this guy. I didn't have a clue who he was, but he knew about me. We fought and I pushed him out of the way of some debris…"

Some debris? Slade practically dropped an entire building on our heads.

"...and I guess he was grateful I saved him because he told me Luthor was setting a trap. I didn't know if I could trust it, but everything he said turned out to be right."

"Uh-huh." I somehow manage to squeak out.

"There's one thing he said that I didn't find out about at Cadmus. He told me to watch out for Matchstick. Not Match. He said things weren't what they looked like and I shouldn't trust Luthor."

"Good advice." Zatanna chimes in.

"So you want to find out what Matchstick is." I say, trying to lead him to the point.

"There's a chance Match isn't just… there's a chance I can save him. For real."

"Which is why we're breaking into LexCorp and hacking Lex's personal computer?"

Superboy nods.

"If you don't want to help, it's fine. I get it. I'll take you back to the cave. But I have to know."

"I'm in." Zee says instantly.

"Me too." I say. "But before we go haywire, I need to check in with Bats."

"Since when do you ask permission to go rogue?" Zee grins with a raised eyebrow.

"We… it's complicated." I open a line to Bruce's work phone. He picks up on the second ring. "Hey B."

"Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, everything's good. I'm with Zee and Con, he found a lead that he wants us to check out. I thought I'd give you a heads up."

"Where are you going?" Bruce asks, but he doesn't sound mad. The line is secure so I tell him.

"Conner found a tie between Luthor and Cadmus. We're going to see if we can find anything at LexCorp."

"If it's possible, the Metropolis headquarters is your best bet. It's home base and he's out of town so usual security is different. Zatanna's there?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Facial recognition is active on all their security cameras, so have her change your faces as much as possible. Make sure you have an exit strategy and if anything goes wrong, evacuate immediately."

"Got it."

"Good luck." There's a pause. "And Dick?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you." Thanks for letting him know instead of going behind his back again.

"Mhm." I hang up as quickly as I can, taking a half-second to thank every force of power in the universe that I got through the phone call without bringing utter disaster down on myself. "Alright. Let's go break into LexCorp."

* * *

Wow. Breaking into secure facilities is literally the easiest thing in the universe with some very carefully placed magic. I barely have to hack anything and Superboy doesn't even get to punch anything. We're standing in Luthor's secure office with full access to his computer in under an hour. Absolutely no one knows we're here. We didn't set off any alarms or traps, and Zee cast spells to diffuse every anti-Kryptonian defense mechanism we came across. And even if we do get caught, the three of us are covered in magical glamors that will make us look like Luthor's personal cleaning crew.

Seriously, Zatanna wins the prize for best Heist partner.

Of course, that was the easy part. The hard part is finding the files on Luthor's computers and server networks without tipping him off that anyone is snooping around.

"The good news is that we're in. The bad news is it's a mess of encryption. Looks like he has a rotating encryption key that has to be manually entered anytime he wants to access stuff."

"Can you hack it?"

I check the desktop for any kind of malware protection and it's Luthor's personal brand. Great news; his was one of the two main systems Batman and I designed our worms for. I plug my holocomputer into the USB port and unleash my favorite virus, grinning when the little faces turn green to show they've matched another index of the encryption key.

I press enter on my keypad and the jumble of unreadable files rearrange into perfectly legible, neatly ordered files.

"And… we're in." I grin.

"You are so cool." Zee pushes in next to me.

"You're the one with magic," I remind her, but something in my chest warms up. I shake my head to clear it and start looking for the files we're after. If it were me, I wouldn't leave my private evil files on a work computer, but this is Luthor. He's too egotistical to imagine anyone could possibly make it into his private office deep inside LexCorp, let alone hack through his security systems. Which, to be fair, we only managed because we have an alien, magic, and a virus created by some of the best hackers in the world. (Mostly Hardison. I guess Batman helped me too.)

"Can we take it all?" Superboy asks. I think for a second before I shake my head.

"We'll be undetectable as long as we're just looking at files. If we try to download anything, I won't be able to erase the access logs. We don't want him to know we were ever here."

"Alright."

"What am I looking for?" I ask Superboy.

"Matchstick." He doesn't hesitate. I start typing, searching through the terminal for anything useful. Zee catches my eye before flicking her gaze at the screen.

"Superboy, you know this is Luthor's private computer, right?"She says.

"Okay?"

"So, any files he has on you are on here."

Superboy doesn't answer, but I just got to the tricky part where I have to open the files without leaving any trace of having opened them, so I have to pay attention to the screen.

"So… you could find out what they did… if they did... you know…" Zee trails off. My stomach drops as I nearly miss the instant-alarm activation sequence and start frantically typing to stop the room's defenses from all triggering at once. I finally get the system under control when Superboy says, "Later. Match comes first."

"Guys, I've got it."

I move my head out of the way so Superboy can read and scroll through page after page of reports and writeups and what would be bureaucratic nonsense if it wasn't about illegally experimenting on alien clones.

"It's there. It's all there, just like he said. Project Matchstick was developed using the original clone to incite a state of overwhelming fury in a Kryptonian."

"So he was telling the truth." Zee says.

"Looks like it." I deserve to win an award for getting through this without giving myself away.

"What now?" Zatanna asks.

"I have to go back for him."

"Right now?"

"I… I don't know. If they used this Matchstick stuff on him, then he'll be angry and psychotic until it wears off. And that could take… weeks? Months? I have no idea what to do to help him. Or where it'll be safe for him to stay so that Luthor can't find him and drag him back."

"Or to make sure he can't hurt anyone." Zee adds.

"Plus, I don't know if Luthor expects me to go back. He might have new security installed, or maybe Match is a trap."

"You shouldn't go alone." I remind him. "Cadmus made you. As long as Luthor is calling the shots, it's not safe. If you want to get Match out in one piece, you need a plan. A really, really good plan. Charging Cadmus without a plan is a great way to wind up inside a cloning pod."

"Seriously?" Zatanna asks.

"Have you never heard this story?" A beep goes off on my holocomputer. "We have to go. Luthor's personal elevator just started up."

"Wait, click that file." Superboy holds up his hand to stop me. My stomach drops thirty five flights to the ground floor. There's no way to avoid it without drawing way too much suspicion, so I hold my breath and hover over the file with the keyword Deathstroke. My blood freezes but Superboy and Zatanna are both staring at the screen in anticipation and there's no excuses I can make. I open the file.

There's not a lot of information, but what's there is interesting. Luthor doesn't trust Slade. He doesn't know where his weak points are. Luthor likes that Slade works for money, but he needs to be able to control the people under him.

The thought that not even Luthor wants to cross Slade sends a shiver down my spine.

"It says he has an accomplice." Superboy's face is set in a frown. Zatanna looks queasy.

"Like a sidekick?" Zee asks. "That's bad, right?"

"If it's true." Superboy answers. I swallow, accidentally scrolling far enough to see the top of a video. Of me.

"It's true."

They both turn to look at me. I move the picture away while they're not looking.

"You're sure?"

I want to laugh as much as I want to start crying. Yes, I'm positive. I'm also positive that I need them not to look at Renegade on screen, especially when I'm right here to compare him to.

"Deathstroke calls him Renegade. That's all anyone knows about him." My hands shake and I pray that neither of them notices. "He's only been seen a few times."

"Where?" Zatanna asks curiously.

"I know he was at Hizer. He punched Arrow in the face and got away with a bunch of samples. But it looks like Luthor barely knows that he exists, let alone knows any of the details."

"There's a video." Zatanna says, clicking on it before I can stop her.

"It's him!" Superboy exclaims, leaning in closer.

"Who?"

"The guy I told you about. Who warned me that Luthor was setting a trap."

"Deathstroke's apprentice is the reason we're here?!" I demand. "We have to go, it must be a trap."

I close the file reader before they can protest (or look too closely), rip out my holocomputer cable, and double check to make sure there's no trace of us.

"Teleport us out." I order Zatanna. She nods and puts a hand on each of our shoulders, trusting that the urgency is for a good reason. Which it is, Luthor's people are almost at the door.

"Ekat su ot eht efas tniop!" She exclaims, throwing back her head as her eyes glow with power. The world disappears in a flash of light, and when it clears, we're standing on the edge of the rune circle she drew around Sphere. Superboy looks completely lost in thought, Zee looks tired, and me? I feel more nauseous than I've ever felt in my life. That was way too close.

* * *

Artemis Crock

Mount Justice

* * *

"Mind if I tag in?" Red Arrow asked. Kaldur looked over and Artemis was forced to stop too.

"I think we're good here." Artemis scowled. Kaldur touched her shoulder lightly.

"Actually, I believe that could be of value. I have something to discuss with Black Canary."

"Kaldur. Kal. Kal!" Artemis hissed, trying to drag him back onto the mat as he stepped off to let the walking tool he was dating take his spot. Kaldur pretended not to hear her and stepped back. Artemis fought the urge to punch Red Arrow and pointed an accusing finger instead. "Alright, you hurt my knee, I will stab you in the eye with an arrow."

"I won't. Clean spar only, I promise."

Okay, so he sounded like less of a tool than usual, so that was already off to a better start.

"I'm serious. Tornado only cleared me yesterday and if I have to spend another month in a cast, I will haunt you for a million years."

"I promise." Red Arrow repeated, his voice lacking the usual bite. "Now can we spar or are you just going to stand there making threats at me all day?"

"Fine." Artemis dropped into a fighting stance, balancing her weight evenly between her feet. Red Arrow moved first, taking the attacking part in one of Canary's practice routines. Artemis followed along, getting a feel for Red Arrow's movements and height.

"It's quiet today." Red Arrow said.

"M'gann has something for cheerleading. I think. Wasn't really paying attention when she said it, I don't really like cheerleading."

"You? Really?" Red Arrow said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I mean, it's fine, it's just not for me." Artemis shrugged, matching his strikes with an inside-outside block combo and ducking before spinning back to give herself more room. No pain in her knee, that was great.

"And the others?"

"Not a clue. Kaldur was the only one here when I zeta'd in." Artemis answered. She kicked Red Arrow lightly in the stomach to finish the routine, waiting for him to roll backwards with the motion. He was back on his feet with the practiced ease of someone who'd long since perfected the routine.

That was one of the only things she didn't resent about him; he really was good at fighting.

"Open spar?" He asked.

"Whatever."

He moved first again and even though it was a much more aggressive pace, he was fighting clean.

"So? What happened?" Artemis asked as she ducked under a spinning hook kick and countered with a punch at his diaphragm. Red Arrow blocked the strike and parried with a hit at her shoulder.

"What?"

"With Robin. I've never heard him blow up at anyone like that, you must've really pissed him off."

"I… I've been… kind of an asshole. I deserved it."

"Well at least you can admit it." Artemis mumbled.

"Very funny."

"I'm serious." Artemis threw a right cross that Red Arrow blocked, but it brought them in closer. Their spar picked up speed and Artemis felt sweat drip down her arms and back. Block, punch, jab, redirect, rinse and repeat. "Are we being honest with each other now?"

"Might as well."

"You're a dick."

Red Arrow shoved her back and followed with a punch that grazed her upper lip. Artemis drew back, touching a hand to her face. She'd cut her lip on her teeth, but it was a small scratch. Barely worth noticing.

"Real mature." She waited for Red Arrow to get back into a ready stance before charging. The intensity picked up right where it had left off and Artemis was surprised to find herself almost enjoying it. "Seriously. I get it, you thought one of us was a traitor and you were trying to protect your friends. But you've been an ass the entire time I've known you. And I know there must be something good in you, because Kaldur's an amazing guy and he has great judgement, but I don't know what he sees in you."

"You have to make difficult choices to do what's best for everyone."

"Then stop trying to do what's right for everyone. Maybe just try to treat the people you care about a little better."

"I'm trying to keep everyone safe."

"Look, you were right about there being a leak, but Batman found it. None of us are traitors. We're a team and you have to stop acting like it's a matter of time before someone turns out to secretly have been evil this whole time. You're just making everyone miserable!"

Red Arrow opened his mouth to say something, but closed it in favor of catching Artemis's arm and trying to spin her into a lock. She snapped her head back to smack him in the face, giving her an opening to get free.

They stood at opposite sides of the floor, chests heaving as they looked at each other.

"Robin was just the one who said it out loud. Maybe you were right about the leak, but you still messed up big time. If you want to make it right, you're going to have to do better."

* * *

Bruce Wayne

Gotham City

* * *

"Charlotte Pratt." Batman graveled, letting his voice echo around the chop shop at the same instant he cut the power and plunged the room into darkness. The woman jumped, letting out a shriek as she grabbed a torque wrench and swung it wildly.

"Who the hell are you?!" She shouted, looking around the dark garage. Through his night vision lenses, Batman could see her left hand move around the workbench for a flashlight. "Come near me and I'll take your head off!"

Batman waited until the device clicked on and a small beam of light shot through the room before finally landing on him.

"Holy shit!" The flashlight dipped before settling on his face. "Batman?!"

"Stolen cars, forged registration papers, all the equipment to strip the parts and sell them on the black market? There's more than enough to send you away for five to ten."

"I don't know what you're talking about." She denied, as if she wasn't waist-deep in car parts they both knew were stolen.

"Save it. GCPD has a task force that's about to move in on this whole operation. One phone call and two dozen officers storm the place with you right at the center. Or, if you cooperate, the GCPD can wait until you're gone."

"Do you think I'm stupid? You're going to arrest me no matter what I do, and I'm no snitch."

"You're better than this, Charlie." Batman stepped forward, swiftly pulling the torque wrench out of her hand before she could move. "You got caught boosting cars when you were seventeen, did two years inside and then five more of community service and turned yourself around. Started working as a mechanic, made a real living. Why go back to stealing?"

"I didn't want to! But what the hell else was I supposed to do?! I have bills! Harris shut down with no warning and nobody's hiring. I can't get work in any of those fancy garages on the upper side, it was this or lose my apartment."

"What happened to Alan Harris?"

"I don't know! I show up to work one day and the place is boarded up. All the equipment is gone and there's five of us standing around with no clue what's happening. Mark thinks Harris skipped town and screwed us all over. I don't think he'd do that though, he's a good guy."

"Harris was a good man?"

"He was to me. It was good money, almost double what I was making in my last job, and he let us do our own thing. Wasn't gross like a lot of the guys in the business and he's way less of a prick than anyone else I've worked for."

"Is this him?" Batman held out a picture and she took it, shining the flashlight at it before nodding.

"Yeah. I always thought he was ex-military." She stared at the picture a little longer than necessary. "He looks weird without the eyepatch."

"How long had you worked for him?"

"Almost five years. He hired me about three months after the garage opened and they started getting busier."

"Did you notice anything strange about him or his activities?"

"Of course, but who isn't a weirdo these days?"

"What kind of strange things?"

"I don't know, the guy was territorial. No one went into his office unless they were meeting with him. He worked weird hours, you never really knew when he was going to be there. It wasn't anything bad, he was still really on top of everything. It only looked like a mess."

Batman paused.

"Did he ever have someone with him?"

"What?"

"Was there anyone who spent time in the garage that shouldn't have been there?"

"Gary, he was an idiot who barely knew how to do an oil change."

"I mean someone young. Kids, teenagers."

"No. Harris ran a safe shop. I mean there was Sam, but he stayed away from the machines and equipment."

"Who's Sam?"

"His nephew. He helped out with the electronics, went through all the paper files and put them on the computer. He's a good kid."

"Tell me about Sam."

Charlie blinked at him.

"What's there to tell? He's sixteen, seventeen, drives a sick bike. Worships the ground Harris walked on, other than that, he's a pretty serious kid. Got the patience of a saint, I couldn't have put up with the boss long enough to teach him how to use a mouse."

"Did he live with Harris?"

"No, he lives with his mom in the Narrows. From the sound of it, money's pretty tight. Harris fixed the bike up for him, it's the only reason he could afford it."

"Did you notice anything strange in the relationship between Harris and his nephew?"

"I mean, I didn't see that much of him. He'd show up and disappear into the office for a few hours."

"Did you ever actually see him working at the computer?"

Charlie froze.

"Uh… I mean, it's Harris' office, I told you he's territorial."

"Did Sam show up with any bruises or unexplained injuries? Prone to accidents? Joke about being clumsy?"

"Sometimes, but nothing serious. I mean, yeah, he could be a little clumsy but…" She trailed off, the frown on her face deepening. "You… you don't think Harris would…"

"The man you worked for is not who he said he was. Everything about him was a cover." Batman said. "If he ever contacts you again, stay away. He is armed and incredibly dangerous."

"Who is he? What'd he do?" Charlie demanded.

"He's the prime suspect in a kidnapping case." Batman answered evasively. The mechanic's jaw dropped.

"You think he kidnapped Sam?!" She practically shouted, eyes wide with horror. Instead of answering, Batman held out his hand.

"I need the keys to the garage." He said. "Breaking in will raise unnecessary suspicion."

Wordlessly, Charlie dug around a draw and drew out a ring of keys. Balancing the flashlight under her chin, she pulled one of the keys off and immediately handed it over.

Batman took it and said, "Get your stuff and clear out. Don't leave any personal items behind, you won't be able to get anything back. Expect a call in a few days about a new employment opportunity."

He turned to disappear into the shadows, but Charlie called out, "Wait!"

He turned back.

"I'm coming. If you're right, I worked for that asshole for five years without a clue what was going on. I need to know."

"It could be dangerous."

"I'm coming." Charlie met his gaze dead on; an impressive feat of bravery considering all she could see was a pair of eyes in the darkness.

"Okay."

He shot a grappling gun at the ceiling and disappeared through the hatch he'd entered through. By the time she made it out the door, he had the Batmobile pulled up out front, one passenger door wide open.

"Get in."

It was a silent ride to the boarded-up building that still bore the sign for "Harris Auto Repair." Charlie managed to tear her awe-struck eyes away from the Batmobile's interior long enough to climb out.

"Is this the place?"

"Yeah." Charlie answered distractedly. "This is it."

Batman headed for the front, keeping an eye out for cameras. He'd spotted three so far, one obvious and two hidden to give a complete view of the front. If this was Deathstroke's hideout, he'd know when anyone approached.

He looked back at Charlie and assessed the risk; if Deathstroke was here and decided to attack, she was in danger. But Wilson was smart and knew how an encounter would end; Batman wouldn't let him get away if he found him. The entire point of tracking down his hideout was to let Deathstroke know he was closing in. Bringing his old employee would show how confident Batman was.

"Be careful. If he shows up, stay behind me."

Charlie nodded.

The door swung open easily when he unlocked it, revealing a garage that had been mostly emptied. After a moment's consideration, Batman flicked the lights on. They turned on without so much as a flicker. The car lifts were still installed, but all the machines and tools that usually filled a workshop were gone. Neatly stacked crates were pushed against the back wall, filled with spare parts and detritus.

"There used to be a couch and fridge there," Charlie pointed. "Desk with a phone there to make calls, everywhere you see a light patch on the floor was a piece of equipment. When we showed up that day, it was all just like this."

Batman looked around the space, checking for any clues that the garage had been anything out of the ordinary.

"What's through there?"

"The back yard and the shed. It's just a closed lot to keep cars in while we worked on them."

Batman eased the nondescript door open and found the gravel-covered lot. There were two cars sitting under the enclosed structure that could have loosely passed for a shed. One was a black sedan with a crushed bumper and the other was a van with a dirty sheet covering the back half.

"Whose cars are those?"

Charlie shrugged.

"Those things have been sitting there for years. Figured at some point Harris would get the parts in to fix them up or we'd sell 'em for scrap."

Batman nodded.

"Where's the office?"

"In here." Charlie pointed to the door. "Still feels wrong to go in, even though… you know."

Batman didn't share her hesitation and pushed open the door. The office had been emptied just like the rest of the shop. There was a table pushed up against one wall with an ancient computer whose black screen was covered in a layer of dust. Filing cabinets lined the rest of the walls, but a quick search of the drawers revealed them to be completely empty. On the right-hand wall was a small supply closet with a flimsy door made of wooden slats.

Unlike everything else in the room, there wasn't a speck of dust on the door.

"What's in there?"

"It's just a closet. Coat and hat, I think."

"Why would a coat closet be locked?" Batman asked her after trying the door and she frowned, examining the space with newfound suspicion.

"What do you think is in there?" She asked.

"Let's find out."

The lock held until Batman kicked the door in. The door fractured and splintered apart, revealing not a coat closet, but a dark stairwell.

"What the hell." Charlie breathed, staring into the darkness. "What the actual fuck."

Batman looked for a light switch, but there wasn't one. He could see a bulb set into the ceiling, which suggested the lights could be operated remotely. There was only one way to find out what was at the bottom of the stairs.

Batman took out his flashlight and shined the beam down, illuminating the vault door and ten-digit keypad.

"That's been there the whole time?!" Charlie hissed, grabbing Batman's arm in shock. After a minute of silence, she asked, "Well, aren't you going down there?"

"Not right now. I don't have the equipment with me to hack the door. There's a chance that everything beyond the door is a trap and going in without backup won't help anyone."

"So what now?"

"Now, we get you out." Batman said. "We know he was here and that this was one of his major hideouts. That's enough information for now."

* * *

Dick Grayson

Mount Justice

Sunday, January 2nd, 2013

* * *

"You wanted to see me?"

Canary looks up and smiles gently, pointing to the green armchair across from hers. I take a breath and sit. This is going to suck.

"You and Roy had a nasty falling out. I thought it would be helpful to try and unpack it before things gets any worse."

"Oh great." I roll my eyes. "It doesn't have anything to do with you, Canary."

"Look, you and Roy are both mature individuals and I respect that you both had your reasons for being angry. I'm not here to force you two to reconcile or fix your problems for you, I'm here because I haven't seen you that upset in a very long time. It's not like you to lose your temper."

"What, I'm not allowed to get angry now? I'm sorry for having emotions!"

"That's not what I'm saying at all." Canary holds up her hands, but her soothing tone just grates on my nerves. I'm not a bomb; I'm not going to explode if she doesn't use her patronizing voice on me. "You've been great about coming in for our sessions, and for the most part I've been happy to let you guide the conversation wherever you want it to go. But enough is enough; you just badly lost your temper in front of them entire team."

"I was having a bad day. Just leave me alone."

"It was just a bad day?" Canary asks kindly. I feel a bubble of hope rising up in my chest. If she believes me, maybe she'll call this intervention off.

"Yeah! I was just upset and seeing Roy just brought it all up at once. I'm fine, really."

The lines of tension fade off Canary's face and her shoulders drop in relief.

"Good." She smiles, nodding in relief. "Good. I'm really glad to hear it."

I feel light enough that I can actually smile back. Disaster averted.

"So, can I ask?"

"Uh… yeah, I guess. Roy was—"

"Not about that." Canary stops me and my stomach sinks again. I can't help but feel like I've fallen into another trap. "Would you mind explaining why M'gann ran out of your room crying a few days ago?"

"I…"

"Robin, this isn't just one bad day. Is it?"

Shit.

"…I…" Dammit. There's no point denying it; she already knows the answer and I'm sick of lying. "…uh… no. It's not."

"Okay. So what's going on?"

I hesitate.

"Nothing you say leaves this room. Nothing's being recorded, Batman won't hear about anything you say to me. Whatever's bothering you, this is a safe place to let it out."

I slump forward with my elbows on my knees, hands digging into my hair.

"No, it's not." I mutter. "Nowhere is."

Canary leans forward.

"You're scared." She says. "It's okay to be scared. I just want you to help me understand why."

I bite my tongue to stop myself from snapping out a response. Instead, I cross my arms over my chest and lean away, staring at the door. Canary's lip quirks up in a small, sad smile and she tilts her head like she's looking through me.

"Wait as long as you like. Neither of us are leaving until you talk to me."

"Are you serious?!"

"I am. Robin, everyone is worried about you."

"Even Red Arrow?" I mutter.

"Especially Red Arrow. Aqualad had to promise him we would have this talk in order to convince him not to storm the Batcave to talk to you. We all thought it was best to give you space."

My fingernails dig into my arm and my cheeks start burning. If Canary had dragged me in here three weeks ago, I would've told her everything. Everything Slade had ever done to me, why he shot Wally, why I've been falling apart. But now?

I can't.

Slade and I made a deal; my friends, my family, they're all safe now. And I know what Slade wants from me. I can handle him now.

And getting ten minutes notice before sneaking out from under Bruce's nose to go stand a foot away from Lex Luthor while Slade helped him manipulate Superboy. I can handle that too. Maybe the feeling of Luthor's fingers digging into my chin turns my stomach and also makes it hard to sleep at night, but it's Luthor. He's a creepy asshole. And besides, I got valuable information on Cadmus that Superboy can now use to rescue Match and the other genomorphs.

And… and finding out that Selina is using Bruce to get information on the League. I can handle it. And I'll find a way to prove it to Bruce. It'll be okay. It has to be.

"Would it be easier if I start?" Canary asks, breaking the silence. I shrug.

"Whatever."

"Are you upset about Roy joining the team?"

That's not a terrible question. I take a breath.

"No." I don't know which of us is more surprised that it's the truth. "I… actually, I think I'm glad."

I try to stop there, but it feels so good to say stuff out loud that I didn't even realize I was thinking.

"I really missed him and it hurt so much when he quit being Speedy and left us behind and… I was really scared that it was because of me. I mean… you know how much this means to me. I believe in what we do. The League, the team, Batman… Robin. It's important to me. It's everything. It's who I am. I…" A tear slides down my cheek and I reach up to wipe it away. "I don't know who I am without Robin."

A lump forms in my throat. That's not true. Slade made sure I know.

"No." I swallow the panic rising in my chest. "I do know who I am without Robin. And I… hate him. I can't be him. Robin is the part of me that's still good. And having Roy look at all that and spit on it… it was seeing him hate the only part of me that I don't."

Canary sighs. When I finally drag my eyes up to her face, there's no sign of pity. Just a furrowed brow as she nods to show she's listening.

"Roy's decision to strike out on his own had nothing to do with you. He was furious that the League lied about inducting you all to the team, and justifiably so. For what it's worth, I didn't know that you'd been told you were becoming full members. I would have pushed back if I'd known."

I wipe my eyes again and push myself further back into the armchair.

"We were all mad. But none of us left."

"Roy's situation is complicated. Oliver had made a bad habit of not telling him the truth, and that was one lie too many. I promise you, Roy respects you a lot. Not just Robin. He respects you. You've been friends for a very long time. And once he and Oliver talked everything out, he was excited to come back. He wanted to be the one to tell you."

"And I blew up at him. Because all I do anymore is hurt people."

"You lost your temper at him because you were angry. Your anger is justified, Robin. No matter his reasons, Roy hurt you. He's had months to apologize to you for the way he treated you and he didn't; he just expected that you'd be happy to see him and didn't consider your feelings at all. Robin, nobody is upset with you for being angry. Nobody blames for you for losing your temper. They're just worried."

My eyes start to itch again and I take a deep breath, trying to stop myself from crying.

"You don't have to deal with any of this by yourself."

"I know."

Canary hesitates, legs shifting like she's trying to find her balance. Slowly, carefully, she asks, "Why didn't you tell us what Deathstroke said to you?"

"Why didn't I tell you?" I repeat while my brain short-circuits. Sheer panic sets in for approximately thirty seconds before I remember the lie I told Red Arrow, the one I shouted in front of my entire team. The lie that isn't a lie at all.

If the Light doesn't want me, Slade will take me for himself. Except that he already has. And this whole time, Canary has been acting like talking about it will magically fix everything, like telling the truth will undo all the things Slade has done to me.

"What do you mean, why didn't I tell you? Because it scared the shit out of me!" My voice comes out ragged and gets louder as I fight to hold back tears. "Do you have any idea what it's like to have someone decide that you're their property?! That the only thing between you being a person and having everything ripped away from you is just convenience?! I thought he killed my friends! That they were gone and nobody would come for me!"

Tears drip out from under my sunglasses.

"I thought they were all dead, Canary! And it was my fault! I found Slade in the server room, I had time to warn them away, I could have gotten them out before he hurt them!"

"Listen to me, Robin. What Deathstroke did was not your fault. He is a very dangerous man and none of you should have ever had to deal with him. Our intel was flawed and it was our mistake. Not yours."

"Of course the intel was bad! Selina's been feeding their side everything they want to know and fucking with our system so we don't have a chance!"

"What?" Canary breathes. Her eyes are wide and her jaw drops. Shocked silence hangs in the air between us.

"You really want to know what's wrong?" I demand, eyes narrowing into furious slits. "Selina is the mole. She's been playing us this whole time and I have proof. But it doesn't matter. Bruce doesn't believe me. Even with… it doesn't matter. After everything I've done for him, he doesn't trust me. He won't listen to me and there's nothing I can do. I can't stop her. I can't fix it! I can't do anything! I'm so sick of being powerless and I just want them to be safe. My whole family is in danger and there is NOTHING I can do! There's never anything I can do! I can't deal with being helpless anymore! And just when I think I've gotten something back or found a way to fix one thing, just ONE THING, it just gets worse! I just fuck it up more! And I can't… I hate… I can't do it anymore."

"You don't have to."

"What are you talking about?" I sniff.

"You don't have to do anything. If you want to stop, just stop. Nobody will blame you, especially if it's hurting you so much to keep doing this."

"Wait, you mean quit being Robin?" I ask. Canary nods once, not breaking eye contact. "No! Robin is the only thing that's still okay!"

"Ok. Let's just take a step back. You tried telling Bruce your suspicions? What happened?"

"He didn't believe me. He thinks he was careful enough checking her out."

"Can I ask… what proof do you have?"

"Selina has been meeting with villains. Taking jobs from them, passing information, organizing thefts from the museum she's working at. I found video footage. And there's half a dozen thefts from the last two years when she claimed she'd gone straight. She's been lying the whole time."

"Did you show Bruce any of it?"

"I tried. But he didn't care after… he wanted to know where I got it and I didn't tell him."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because I had to do things I shouldn't have to get it." My heart races and I take another breath to calm it. "I know it was wrong but I just wanted her gone. I needed proof so that Bruce would listen and—"

I cut myself off, trying to find the words to make Canary understand.

"Every second that he believes her, my family is in danger. It wasn't a choice."

"Sometimes we have to make hard choices. It's not always clear what the right thing is. You're trying to keep your family safe. I'm sorry that you've had to carry all this guilt around, but not as sorry as I am that you weren't comfortable taking your fears to Bruce directly. He is your guardian; it's his job to keep you safe. You should not have to feel like you need physical proof before you can bring up any concerns with him. Especially when the concerns are this serious."

I cross my arms over my chest even tighter and try not to feel how hard the words sting.

"I believe you, Dick. I promise you, I will handle this."

"You believe me?" Just like that?

"Of course. I trust you, Dick. I know you'd never make up something this important."

My throat closes as tears prick at my eyes. She believes me. After everything I had to do to just get Bruce to listen to me for two minutes, and she believes me.

"You are not alone, Dick. And I promise you, I will not let her put your family in danger."

"Thank you. For… for everything."

"Of course. Now, I want you to go do something that relaxes you. Something that has no purpose other than the fact that you enjoy it, okay? I have something very important to go take care of."

* * *

Ra's al Ghul

* * *

"I saw that Ocean Master has sent his orders." Ra's al Ghul offered his guests a drink. Vandal Savage took the glass while Queen Bee waved the alcohol off with a flick of her wrist. He didn't need to specify which orders he was talking about; all three of them knew this was Ocean Master's final chance at redemption before his expulsion from the Light.

"An unfortunate waste of our resources." Queen Bee frowned.

"He may still succeed." Vandal reminded them.

"Do you really believe that?" She raised an eyebrow.

"No. Orm has become blinded by his hatred and lost sight of our goals. But until he proves himself unworthy, he is still among our numbers and will be respected as such."

"It's hardly a matter of respect." Ra's interjected. "He is a strong leader and inspires devout loyalty among his troops; neither of those things are to be ignored. However, it is his failings as a strategist that have nearly cost our alliance everything."

"Then you would prefer a strategist for his replacement?" Savage sipped his drink, waiting patiently for the response.

"It is not out of the question. However, the loss of Ocean Master's troops will strain my Shadows even further." Ra's answered.

"Bodies can be bought; men can be hired, forces taken over whether employed or controlled. Choosing based solely on resources is a rash decision." Queen Bee countered. Savage set his glass down with a thud and opted for the direct approach.

"Deathstroke would make a good ally."

"That remains to be seen." Ra's was unperturbed.

"I hear Luthor arranged a meeting in Gotham. He sought counsel in the matter of Camdus' disappearances."

"If that's true, then it appears Deathstroke is to thank for our recovery of the missing genomorphs. The Superboy acted exactly as he predicted." Savage answered.

"Have you met his apprentice?" Queen Bee asked interestedly, gracefully shifting the subject.

"Not personally. Although my assassins have worked with him recently."

"And you?" She asked.

"Not yet." Savage answered. "Although I have known about him for some time. In addition, Luthor sent along some video he recovered from the break-in at Hizer labs. I was quite impressed."

"Do you still have the video?"

"Of course."

"I'd like to see it as well." Ra's said. "He impressed my assassins. He survived his trial by combat, which would be an impressive feat without nearly setting a record time."

"Has any progress been made in determining the boy's identity?"

"Not yet. Unsurprisingly, Wilson has been very protective of him."

"He's very skilled at keeping secrets. Is it wise to invite a man into our fold when his motivations are so carefully shrouded?"

"Unlike yours?" Queen Bee asked pointedly, raising an eyebrow at his hypocrisy.

"Wilson stands to gain a great deal by joining us." Savage said, sitting down on the armchair opposite her. "In return, we will be able to keep a much closer eye on his activities if he has an obligation to us."

"A man with no honor has only an obligation to himself."

"And is Deathstroke a man without honor?" Queen Bee asked Ra's. He frowned.

"That is what remains to be seen." Savage answered for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter and how close everything is to falling apart. Batman is closing in, M'gann and Wally are taking a stand, and the whole encounter with Renegade has given Conner a lot to think about.
> 
> The next chapter is almost done, I'm aiming to have it up by next Thursday! Get ready for a lot of high-stakes disasters and Batman finally getting some (but not all of the) answers.
> 
> Leave me a review if you're enjoying it! Your support means the entire world to me and it really helps motivate me to write. Thanks again for reading!


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! I believe I promised you angst and suffering. Here's all that and more.

Selina Kyle

The Gotham Museum of Art

Monday, January 3rd, 2013

* * *

A clack of unfamiliar heels echoed down the hallway, prompting Selina to look up from her computer. Somehow, she'd never realized how much email a single person could receive before she took a real job where she was bombarded with them 24/7.

The blonde woman who appeared in the doorway to her office was familiar. Selina smiled as the name clicked into place.

"Dinah Lance, right?" She stood up, walking out from behind her desk to offer her hand. "We met at the holiday party."

Dinah nodded and shook her hand, but this woman wasn't nearly as friendly or warm as the one she'd been introduced to a few weeks ago.

"Hi Selina. Do you have a few minutes?"

Selina raised an eyebrow.

"Are you asking for five minutes or do I need to clear my schedule for the rest of the day?"

"The second one." Dinah answered, sounding apologetic despite the serious tone.

"Alright. Give me a minute."

She sent an out of office memo, gathered her things, and followed Dinah out the door. Clark was waiting for them in the lobby, tucked against the wall in a way that made him almost unnoticeable. He nodded at Selina when they came out to meet him.

"Thank you for coming." He said, sounding far less happy to see her than he ever had.

"Of course. What's going on?"

"Not here."

When they made it out to the parking lot, he asked her, "Do you mind?"

It took her a second to realize he was asking permission to fly her somewhere, and she nodded. The world blurred; sound rushed together and everything blended into itself. When they finally stopped and Clark set her down, Selina looked around at the snowy landscape.

"Are we at the Fortress of Solitude?" She asked. Superman, now in costume, nodded. "Clark, what's going on?"

"I'll explain inside."

Selina shivered at the cold air and shrugged. "Fine by me. It's freezing out here."

Superman led her inside the fortress, moving too quickly for Selina to take in the icy spires. It clearly wasn't the right time to ask for the full tour, so Selina kept pace. Dinah had beaten them there and had time to change into Black Canary. She was standing by an icy console, speaking quietly to Wonder Woman.

Selina fought back the urge to groan; Wonder Woman was no fan of hers. If she didn't respect that Diana was looking out for Bruce and the kids, the feeling would've been entirely mutual.

"Alright, you've got me here. I've been patient. Now would one of you mind telling me what exactly is going on?"

The three heroes looked at each other, none of them wanting to start. Finally, Dinah cleared her throat.

"We know you're spying on the League."

"What?!" Selina sputtered. "I'm sorry, what?!"

Superman frowned, not a hint of a smile on his face.

"We have reliable information that you've been sabotaging League activities and compromising information for several years."

Selina's jaw dropped.

"What?!"

"Did you really think you could get away with it?" Wonder Woman demanded, her voice as cold as the ice surrounding them.

"I am not a spy!" Selina protested, glaring at the Amazon with all the stubbornness of a cat. "Use your magic rope if that's what it takes to convince you, but you're wrong. I'm not a spy."

The three heroes looked at each other and Superman turned back to her.

"Do you consent to the use of the Lasso of Truth?" He asked.

"Yes. Whatever it takes for you to believe me that I would NEVER do something like that." Selina answered. Diana wrapped the lasso around her and it glowed gold.

"Now tell us the truth, Catwoman. Did you meet with Deathstroke about items he wanted you to steal?"

"Yes, but—"

"Did you intend to follow through with the theft?"

"Yes, as part of the curator's plan—"

"Have you had any contact with Deathstroke before?"

"No! Never!"

"Are you spying on the League?!"

"No! I would never! I don't know why you think I would, but I am not a spy. I am not a mole. I would never hurt Bruce like that."

Diana looked stunned, looking down at her lasso like she was checking that it still worked.

"Do you have any idea why Dick is so certain you are?" Dinah asked softly.

"What?" Selina breathed. "Dick thinks I… what?"

"He found evidence of a series of thefts you committed during the two years you claimed you had gone straight."

"Those are fake." Selina breathed. "Before I moved in with Bruce, he wanted to make sure that nobody suspected Catwoman had gone clean. For everyone's safety; nobody would dare to go after Bruce or the kids if they were part of a major player's scheme. Not even the other Rogues. He invented targets, filed police reports, and had Commissioner Gordon log them discreetly."

"So that anyone who went looking would see that Catwoman was still a thief and think you were after Wayne for his money."

"It worked. Deathstroke had no idea I've gone clean. He thought I was in the middle of a con." Selina said. "If Dick saw any of the footage or found the files, he would've thought the same thing. Fuck, I knew he was angry at me, I just didn't realize…"

Selina's head snapped up suddenly. "Does Bruce know?"

Dinah winced.

"He… yes. Dick brought up his concerns with him and from what I was told, it didn't go well."

* * *

Bruce Wayne

The Hall of Justice

* * *

"I've got a location." Batman said as he strode into the meeting room. All the available League members were present, plus Superboy and Aqualad.

"You found it?!" The Flash scrambled to his feet.

"Deathstroke has a base in Gotham. He's been operating out of it for nearly five years under a false identity as Alan Harris, owner of Harris Auto Repair. I tracked down one of the mechanics who used to work for him, she had no idea why the garage shut down suddenly."

"Did she know anything about his apprentice?" Hawkwoman asked.

"She did. 'Alan' had a teenaged nephew who would help around the garage, mostly managing the electronics and organizing inventory. She described him as a very serious kid who worshipped the ground his uncle walked on. I found a match for Samuel Harris, a seventeen-year-old junior at Gotham North. According to the school's records, he lives with his mother in an apartment in the Narrows."

"See, it sounded legit until you said 'according to the records' like that." The Flash pointed out suspiciously.

"That's because Samuel Harris doesn't exist. The junior class principal confirmed it and had no idea how the record of a fake student was planted."

"There's no way the kid's seventeen either." Green Arrow crossed his arms over his chest. "The more I think about it, the younger he gets. Yeah, he hit hard, but he was tiny; hell, if he's hit puberty I'll break another bow."

"No way." The Atom shook his head. "He looks young, but anyone would next to a guy Wilson's size. Age is hard to guess; I mean, I've had undergrads in my classes that look like they should be in middle school. He could be anywhere from sixteen to twenty-two. But nowhere under that."

"Atom, are you sure?"

"If you'd seen him, you'd agree. He's good; he took out an eight-person strike team in under a minute. And the way he and Wilson talked—not even just that, the way they moved and thought—they have to have worked together for years. I mean, it was next-level. Think military training, not junior high phys-ed."

"That part I agree with." Green Arrow said. "Whether or not he knew how to fight before Wilson got to him, he has to have years of combat training."

"Plus super strength." Superboy added.

"Right." Green Arrow said.

"So basically we still know absolutely nothing about who he is or how long he's been working for Deathstroke." Red Arrow interjected, sounding entirely unimpressed.

"Deathstroke is deliberately presenting conflicting stories. Green Arrow, you think he's a meta-human child. Atom believes he's ex-military in his early twenties. The version Superboy encountered was a Hispanic teenager with enhanced abilities. There are rumors of him being an immigrant from every corner of the globe. The stories are diametrically opposed and that's by design." Batman said.

"You believe that's of special significance?" Martian Manhunter asked.

"Yes. We've devoted a lot of time and energy to the search and we've found nothing concrete. Deathstroke is working very hard to make sure nobody can figure out who his apprentice is. Superboy, tell them what you discovered."

"Renegade warned me about Cadmus a few days before Dubbilex contacted me. He was right about everything and he's the reason Robin, Zatanna and I discovered that I wasn't the only clone of Superman created. Why would he do that?"

"There are two possibilities. The first is that Deathstroke was using a relatively unknown player to lead you into a trap."

"But it wasn't a trap. If anything, he's sabotaging Luthor."

"If it was a trap, the danger may not yet be obvious." Aqualad reminded him.

"The other is that Renegade went behind Deathstroke's back to try and help you." Batman finished.

"And since it's Deathstroke we're talking about here, I'm gonna go ahead and call that one a trap." Flash said firmly. Superboy shook his head.

"But I don't get why Deathstroke would have anything to do with it. Luthor was the one who contacted me about Match. He said it was a failed experiment gone out of control. It's his facility, his money and his… experiment. I don't get how Renegade could have known about it."

"I don't know, Superboy." Batman frowned. "It's possible that Renegade was genuinely trying to help you, but it's very unlikely."

"Do you think Deathstroke is forcing Renegade to work for him?" Captain Marvel asked. He'd been so quiet most of the Leaguers had apparently forgotten he was there.

"It's a possibility."

"I don't think so." The Atom shook his head. "I'm the only one who's seen them together and I'm telling you, they're a team. Wilson might have been the one calling the shots, but that kind of partnership is built on trust and a lot of experience."

"At his appearance in the museum, Deathstroke implied the apprentice was a relatively recent development." Aqualad pointed out. Red Arrow caught on immediately and nodded.

"But if Atom's right, they've been working together for a long time."

"So why now?" The Flash asked. "You said it yourself, Batman. Wilson has been lying low for the past few years. Suddenly, he's turning up all over the place and bringing disaster with him wherever he goes. What changed?"

"You think that the apprentice is the reason?" Martian Manhunter mused.

"It's not out of the question." Hawkwoman answered.

"Unfortunately, it's proven impossible to find any trace of him. Deathstroke has been exceedingly careful. He's only been sighted four times; once in Star City, once in Gotham, once in Scarsdale, and now in Metropolis. If he is being coerced, we have no way to find out what Deathstroke has on him. We just have to wait for him to appear again."

"But you said you found the hideout." Captain Marvel said.

"Deathstroke is too careful." Batman said. "He won't go back there knowing that the location is exposed."

"Well, if Renegade is trying to help, we might not have to wait that long." Superboy said hopefully.

"The chance of him being able to slip Deathstroke's notice and find a hero to pass information to again is slim to nonexistent." Batman said. Then a stunning realization slammed into him as he processed the words he'd just said.

That was it.

Renegade had done this before.

He'd slipped away from Deathstroke and managed to contact someone to tell them information no one else could have known. There was a very good chance he'd done it to try and help.

And knowing how much danger it would put Renegade in, the hero had promised not to divulge how he'd come by the information.

Batman had looked at it from every angle, considered every possible explanation. Except he'd overlooked something; Selina and Deathstroke hadn't been the only ones at the museum that night. Renegade was there too.

And somehow, Renegade found Robin and told him what he thought he knew; that Selina was the mole. The secrets, the lies, the sneaking around, it all made sense. Robin knew about Renegade. He knew about the leaks in the League, the suspected mole lurking on the team. He was trying to protect him.

"Batman?" Green Arrow broke Batman out of his thoughts. The whole room was looking at him, waiting to hear his breaking revelation.

"Apprehending Deathstroke remains our top priority. Renegade is to be considered as a hostage; he is dangerous and an active hostile, but we have sufficient evidence to believe that he is acting under duress."

* * *

Wayne Manor

* * *

"Why didn't you tell me Dick thought I was a mole?!" Selina thundered as she stormed into Bruce's study. Bruce winced.

"Because it was preposterous and I didn't see the need to cause you any undue stress."

"Undue stress? You want to talk undue stress, try getting interrogated at the Fortress of Solitude!"

"What?"

"Your superpals wanted to ask me few questions. Nothing bad, just getting flown to the North Pole and tied up in a magical truth rope by an immortal Amazon who, by the way, hates me."

"They did what?!" Bruce demanded.

"You heard me. And you know what? I don't blame them! They had a problem and they tried to fix it, not like some control freaks who leave everyone else in the dark because they don't want to cause 'undue stress'! Bruce, how the hell could you not tell me that Dick thought I was a mole!"

"Selina, I—"

"I have been losing my mind! I thought he hated me and I had no idea what I was doing wrong! Turns out, he thinks I've been plotting to kill you and all he could do about it was glare at me across a room! I'd have been pissed too!"

"Selina, I'm sorry. I didn't—"

A phone rang, cutting him off. Bruce looked down at his screen and swore.

"Who is it?" Selina asked, anger fading away for the moment.

"Arthur Brown's attorney."

"Stephanie's father?"

Bruce nodded stiffly.

"What does he want? Is something wrong?"

"If it is, it's not about Stephanie. I take her to visit as often as she'll agree to go, and he has the number if he needs to coordinate a visit with us."

"So he's calling because?"

"He wants to talk to Batman, says he has information he wants to exchange for a reduced sentence."

"Information on what?" Selina asked, her brow furrowing.

"He won't say. I'll go to Metropolis Pen in a few days when this is settled. Whatever it is, it's going to be a big headache."

"How much of a reduction is he asking for?"

"All of it."

Selina raised an eyebrow.

"Must be something big."

"Most likely it's a ploy. Whatever it is, it's going to have to wait. Selina, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because I trust you. I knew you would never do something like that, and I was much more concerned about where Dick got his information. And that was a mistake too. My intention was never to hurt you."

"I know."

"Are you all set for Wednesday?"

Selina didn't mind the topic change at all. They could talk about this more later, especially once Selina had a chance to sit down with Dick and explain everything.

"It's all set up. Ozzy was excited to hear from me, so he's going to be insufferable." Selina forced a half-hearted grin onto her face and sighed. "Bruce, are you sure you don't want to call the League in? I'm only going to get one shot at a meeting and if something goes wrong…"

"I'm not letting the League anywhere near my city. Not after that stunt they pulled today."

"Bruce, they were worried. If anything, it should make you feel better that they're looking out for the kids."

"No. This is too important. I need to be completely focused, dividing my attention is the most dangerous thing I could possibly do."

"Alright. If you're sure… I'll finalize it."

"Good."

* * *

Dick Grayson

Gotham Academy

Wednesday, January 5th, 2013

* * *

"Hello? Earth to Dick?"

I snap back to reality. Dr. Phillips is standing at the front of the room, arms crossed as he leans against the whiteboard.

Oh right. I'm in Biology.

I must have taken too long to respond, because he raises an eyebrow and asks, "Dick, are you alright?"

"Sorry, yeah, I'm good."

He smiles brightly and I look around. How long has everyone been staring at me?

"Glad to see hear it. Now can you tell us the answer to question seven?"

I glance down at my paper and answer, "NADH and FADH2 transfer electrons from the Krebs cycle to Oxidative Phosphorylation."

A few kids start laughing, Manny hi-fives Neil, and Dr. Phillips looks impressed, "Guess we were wrong. You were paying attention after all."

My desk-neighbor Cindy slides me a piece of paper that looks a lot like an attendance sheet, apologetically whispering, "We took a vote."

The paper is labelled, "Is Dick sleeping in class again?" About three quarters of the class voted yes. I wince. At least Manny and Neil believed in me.

"I'm really sorry." I say.

"Stay awake the rest of class and we'll call it even." Dr. Philips says, turning back to the white board. He starts explaining the next step of cellular respiration and I try my best to pay attention. I didn't mean to fall asleep, but I felt exhausted when I woke up this morning. Talking to Canary felt good, it really did, but it took a lot out of me.

I just can't let that happen again. Dr. Philips has a good sense of humor, but even he's going to get mad if I fall asleep in class again.

Of course, staying awake is a lot easier said than done when he starts explaining the process of oxidative phosphorylation and the role of the mighty mitochondria, powerhouse of the cell. It's boring and there's so much busy work that even thinking about it makes my chest hurt. He starts explaining how to do the analysis for our cell respiration lab and all the diagrams and equations and reactions make my head hurt.

I'm so sick of doing work. It just feels so pointless when everything else is so much more important. I fight back a yawn as Dr. Phillips starts talking about phosphate groups. Speaking of more important, I could be home sleeping right now.

As if on cue, the bell rings, interrupting Dr. Philips mid-word. People start stuffing everything in their bags to get out of the room as fast as humanly possible.

"Really?!" He exclaims, throwing his hands into the air in mock outrage, "We always run out of time!"

He shakes his head and the class pauses on their way out to listen, "Alright guys, see you Thursday. Make sure to finish your cell respiration lab reports for Monday."

I stand up and sling my bag over my shoulder when he flicks his finger at me, "Dick? A word? Don't give me that look, you knew this was coming."

Dammit.

Dr. Phillips sits behind his desk, shuffling a stack of papers into a neat pile. He looks over to the door to make sure it's closed, then pulls up another chair.

I sit. He doesn't seem mad; but by the way he's fidgeting, he seems nervous. It shouldn't be a big deal. I normally pay attention in class and I've been keeping up with the material. Even today, I finished the worksheet before I zoned out. That doesn't explain why he looks so uncomfortable.

Dr. Phillips opens his mouth to talk, but then closes it. His face creases and his lips press together. He's worried and there's something he wants to say but isn't sure how to.

Great. I fight back the urge to roll my eyes. Another intervention.

"What's up, Doc?" I prompt with a grin, making sure my body-language is as relaxed and carefree as possible, "Am I in trouble or something?"

"No," he says carefully, "You're not in trouble. I just need to ask you, why are you taking this class?"

"Um…" Wasn't expecting that. "Biology is a required course?"

"I know that." Dr. Phillips raises his eyebrows. "But I also know that this is nowhere near the highest-level class offered, and it doesn't fit in with your other AP and honors classes. You're an incredibly smart kid, Dick. That much is clear. It's also clear that you're bored in this class. What math are you taking?"

"AP Calc."

"And would you ever fall asleep in it?"

"Uh… well… no."

"That's what I thought. So tell me, why didn't you take a harder course?"

I decide to tell him the truth, more or less. "I didn't think I could handle anything else. I'm kind of overwhelmed right now."

"With classes?"

"Yeah." I say dismissively, but my stomach tightens. "I mean, they're part of it."

Dr. Philips frowns, looking at me like he sees through me.

"Are you okay, Dick?"

A frustrated huff escapes before I can stop it.

"Everyone keeps asking me that, I'm fine." I have to be fine, or else everything is going to fall apart and I'll fuck something up so badly that things will never be okay again.

"I'm serious, Dick. I know you're a smart kid and that you have a ridiculous amount of stuff going on, but this goes beyond normal stress. I heard so many stories about you from the middle school teachers, about how you had so much energy and passion. I was really excited to have you in my class but I don't think I've ever seen you care. You only talk when I call on you and you seem so checked out all the time, even when you're not falling asleep. And I don't think that's you. I want to help, but I don't know what you need if you won't tell me."

"I have to go Dr. Phillips. I'm late for English."

"Dick." He says, standing up after me. "Dick. Richard! Please listen to me."

I hear the chair scrape on the linoleum floor behind me.

"I just want to help."

When I get to the door, I freeze. I take a breath, plaster a calm look on my face, and turn around.

"I'm fine, Dr. Phillips. I just haven't gotten that much sleep lately and I've been scrambling to catch up. But I promise, I'm fine."

I'm a damn good actor. Not even my biology teacher's scrutiny can find a crack in the mask. We hold the staring contest for as long as it takes his doubts to win out, and he finally sighs.

"All right. But if you need anything, there are people here to help you, myself included."

He reaches for a hall pass, scrawling his signature over the paper. "What class are you going to?"

"English."

"Who's your teacher?"

"Mrs. McKendrick?"

Dr. Phillips hands me the note, repeating, "If you need anything, just let me know."

I take the pass, carefully meeting his eyes.

"Thanks," I respond, feeling equally relieved and guilty. Dr. Phillips is a really good guy. He sees a kid who needs help and he's trying his best. Too bad he can't help me.

I make it out of the classroom without breaking down, which feels like an achievement because that was terrible. There's no sign of Babs outside. That's weird; she always meets me after Bio so we can walk to English together. Now that I think about it, I haven't seen her all day.

My phone rings and the number makes my blood freeze. What now?

"Do not come back to the garage." Slade says without introduction.

"What?"

"The location has been compromised. I will meet you in a secondary location tonight."

"What are you talking about? What's happening tonight?"

"It's pickup day."

Oh.

Oh no. This is going to be bad.

"No way, I'm not going—hello?"

The line goes dead.

* * *

Matches Malone

Iceberg Lounge, Gotham City

Wednesday, January 5th, 2013

* * *

"That's the thing about Penguin," Beer slopped over the sides of his glass as Ax slammed it on the table. "He runs a classy establishment."

"Oh yeah, real classy. Right up until some bimbo in a jumpsuit made of question marks and icicles steals your wallet to pay off her tab." Joe Shmoe agreed to a burst of laughter. The Chrises laughed along with the rest of them, and Greg inhaled his drink mid laugh. A few quick pounds on the back stopped his coughing.

"You're a lifesaver, Matches." Greg coughed.

"Tell me that one more time when we're paying the tab and I swear…" Matches threatened, but the grin on his face set the other men back to laughing.

"Wanna remind me again why we're not at O'Malley's?" Tall Chris demanded. "All this ice is giving me frostbite."

"Quit whining, you pussy." Short Chris smacked him.

The men at the table weren't the usual type to frequent this particular establishment. The Iceberg lounge catered to the Supervillains with a flair for the dramatic and cash to burn.

Henchmen usually sat as far away from the highrollers as they could, but these men were Odd Jobs. The Chrises did detailing for hideouts and lairs and worked solely through their agency. Joe Shmoe, Matches and Ax picked up gruntwork in the Harbor. They'd been drinking buddies for the better part of twenty years, and despite their differences, had similar opinions about the state of Gotham.

Of them all, Greg was the only full-time henchman. He'd been working for the Joker for longer than even Harley had, and everyone in Gotham was in awe of the only man who could weather the Joker's unpredictability. Rumor had it that even the Batman wouldn't go near him, but as Greg always joked, he had the bruises to prove otherwise.

"Hope you've had your ears open recently," Greg answered. He glanced back at the rest of the bar like he was looking for someone.

"Wasn't there some big stink with that Kobra trial?" Matches asked distractedly, pulling a matchbox out of his pocket and sticking a match between his teeth.

"Kobra ain't shit. That's the thing they don't tell you about cults; they're cheap as hell. Wanted to hire some muscle a while back, get this, for the pride of joining a cause greater than yourself. Wouldn't pay so much as a dollar," Joe Shmoe shook his head disgustedly.

"That's why you have to have a flat rate." Short Chris said. "Say, this is what you're paying me or your new hideout is going to be an empty warehouse with a giant question mark taped to the wall."

"Course, Riddler's never going to risk that one again. You should've seen the email he sent us." Tall Chris grinned. "Got himself sprung from Belle Rev and whoever he shacked up with basically gave him a list of stuff to do and left him stranded. Took him a solid week to make it back to Gotham, and the Bat cleared out his lairs by then so he was stuck in Hi-Ho motel. Gave the word desperate a whole new meaning."

"Wasn't our best job but at some point, you just have to cut a guy a break." Short Chris agreed.

"AFTER we cashed the check," Tall Chris finished.

"Seemed like Riddler was going to cut and run outta Gotham for a while there." Ax said. "There's too much of that going around. Gotham is it. Who gives a shit if any of those Secret Societies are trying to take over the world?"

"There was Freeze and that Snow Gang, and last I heard Ivy and Joker were pulling that Injustice League stunt together."

"Bullshit. Ivy'd never team up with him. Slice him up and use his corpse as fertilizer sure, but a team up?"

"Believe it or don't." Greg shrugged. "But they're both up in Arkham and from what I hear, if one of them doesn't break out soon, the doctors are ready to blow the place up themselves."

"Those poor shrinks," Joe Shmoe finished his beer and flagged a feathered waitress over. "Another round for the table."

"Love the new look, Finch." Tall Chris told the waitress, who beamed and glanced back at the golden-speckled plumage decorating her leotard before holding up her wrist to show him the matching cuff.

"You like it?" Finch tilted her head, considering the bracelet. "Ozzy decided to change things up a little. Some new 'birds of paradise' kick. It's not bad, but I liked the old design better."

"Honey, they're gorgeous. Your ass looks ah-mazing." Tall Chris proclaimed, and Finch preened.

"I'll be right back with those beers." She practically flounced towards the kitchen.

"How come they like it when you compliment their asses?" Ax complained. Tall Chris just raised an eyebrow at him. Suddenly, the lounge went silent. The men looked at each other before turning around to see who had just walked through the door.

"Something happen with Catwoman?" Joe Shmoe asked cluelessly as the purple-clad villainess sauntered through the main floor of the Iceberg, heading for an empty table between Harley Quinn and Scarecrow.

Greg and the Chrises stared at him.

"You're kidding, right?" Greg asked.

"About?" Joe Shmoe raised an annoyed eyebrow.

"Catwoman made some kind of deal with Deathstroke. Some contract got messed up and he hired her to pick up the slack."

"Big whoop." Joe Shmmoe interrupted as Finch arrived with the tray of beers.

"So what? She takes jobs sometimes. He's sure as hell got the clout to hire her." Ax said, taking the bottle the waitress handed him. "Thanks doll."

Finch looked around the lounge quickly and made up her mind. She leaned over the table and whispered conspiratorially, "She came here all kinds of freaked out. Ordered the biggest bottle of vodka Ozzy would let us give her and told everyone about Deathstroke's new sidekick."

"His what?" Matches asked. Greg leaned forwards, indulging in his flair for the dramatic.

"Deathstroke decided it was time to grow the business and found himself an apprentice. Nobody knows who the kid is, or where Deathstroke found him, but…" Greg paused and shook his head, "I wouldn't want to be that kid."

"You should've heard Two-Face going on about it." Short Chris butted in. "Half righteous fury over child abuse, half convinced it was the most brilliant idea he'd ever heard. Wouldn't shut up about it the whole time we were working on his place."

"You think that's bad? Harley's giving a lecture a series on criminal psychology and the need to subjugate those you have power over. She's selling tickets."

Matches turned to look and sure enough, Quinn's table was filled with people hanging on to her every word as she explained something. Whatever she was talking about, it included a lot of hand gestures and sure enough, there was even a small whiteboard filled with bullet points.

"The whole thing is beyond messed up. Apparently Deathstroke went around kidnapping orphans and made them fight each other to the death until there was only one left."

"No, Poison Ivy made that up." Finch corrected. "Word at the bar is this family tried coming here illegally and got held up at the airport for fake visas. The parents were deported, but Deathstroke paid off ICE half a million to let him have the kid."

"Bullshit. He probably just walked up to a homeless kid and said, 'I'll pay you.'"

"Ha. You think that kid is getting paid? More like beaten to death any time he so much as breathes." Greg answered.

"He's got to be getting something out of it," Finch said worriedly. "There's gotta be some reason for it. Regular people don't just get grabbed like that, especially not kids."

"Lady, I don't know who told you the world is fair or anything like that—Oh shit." Matches started, but the bar went silent again. The whole room seemed to hold its breath as a man walked in… wearing a black and orange mask, guns holstered on either side and swords strapped to his back.

Matches had never seen Deathstroke the Terminator in person but the mercenary was pretty easy to recognize. Damn, that was a lot of firepower.

Deathstroke walked into the room and the Penguin himself pompously strode out to meet him. Cobblepot glared at the mercenary in an attempt to remind him that he was firmly in Rogue territory and as long as he was out of favor with Catwoman, he was in all of their bad books.

Sure enough, a few steps into the room, Deathstroke's new shadow came into view.

The kid's uniform was a mirror of his mentor; all black with a block of orange over the chest. A silver 'S' right over his heart, proclaiming ownership for the whole world to see. There was a spiky black mask over the top half of his face, practically sharp enough to cut him.

He walked in exactly in step with Deathstroke, posture perfect, face pulled into a tight frown, looking very, very aware that the entire room was staring at him. Matches felt a little bad that he was one of them but he couldn't help it. The pair of them were like a twisted version of the Bat and his sidekick. Matches hadn't seen Robin that many times, but everyone knew the Boy Wonder's job was to stick out like a sore thumb; the bright colors, flashy smile, godawful puns and constant chatter were all supposed to distract you from the dark shadow that was about to pummel you into the ground or hang you off a building. Where Robin stood out, the kid was just there. He wasn't drawing attention to himself or running away from it, he just kept his eyes straight ahead and followed his boss.

He looked a little bit like Robin. Mostly the black hair. The similarities stopped there; this kid was taller and broader, probably a few years older. Matches eyed the bruises covering the kid's cheek and chin, the yellow tinge showing it was mostly healed. The scabs on his face looked much newer; Matches had taken a hit enough time to recognize those marks and he winced in sympathy. A punch hard enough to break skin hurt like a bitch.

Poor kid.

When the group reached the far side of the bar, Catwoman rose seamlessly from her table and strolled into Cobblepot's office. Cobblepot followed her in. Deathstroke paused and the kid stopped dead behind him. The mercenary nodded his head to the side and the apprentice took up a guard position outside the door. Then Deathstroke disappeared inside and the door closed.

Their table was the closest to Cobbelpot's office and Matches was sitting closest to the kid. He was in the best position to see that the kid's hands were shaking and the blood had drained out of his face.

He was terrified.

He didn't fidget, didn't move, didn't look away from his post, but everything about the way he was standing showed how far beyond petrified he was. And the whole bar filled with villains and henchmen and criminal scum was still dead silent, staring at him in a mix of hostile curiosity that wasn't doing him any favors. Matches decided to take pity on him.

"Jack Daniels on the rocks," he told Finch, who nodded and slid out of the booth from next to Tall Chris. The waitress walking back over to the bar was enough to break the stand-still. Slowly, the chatter resumed and soon, the usual noise was back.

Matches glanced back at the kid, who looked like he'd managed to remember how to breathe. Greg had the same thought but went one further than Matches. Probably had something to do with the way Harley Quinn was frantically waving her arms at him in some incredibly obvious signal.

He waved at the kid and said, "They're going to be a while. Come take a load off."

The kid froze. He stared like Greg had grown five heads and started breathing fire.

"Come on, we don't bite!" Tall Chris grinned.

"At least, we won't bite you," Short Chris laughed, winking at Tall Chris.

"Is that a promise?"

"Don't mind them." Greg shook his head and repeated. "Come sit. They're going to be in there for a while and most of us have showered recently."

"Move over, fatass," Matches shoved Ax to the side. "Give him the sightlines."

Renegade still didn't move. His back was as stiff as it would go, and Matches figured the kid was too terrified out of his mind to make any kind of decision for himself. So Matches nodded his head at the seat and said, "Here, kid. You can see the whole place."

The kid—geez, he looked way younger up close, what was he, fifteen?—stared at the vacated seat. The kid finally sat down, but he was even more tense than before. Matches looked back at Greg who raised an eyebrow smugly. Matches wasn't impressed.

"Catwoman, huh?" Tall Chris said, glancing at the closed door to Cobblepot's office. "Damn, if I was five years younger and not a flaming homo…"

"You bitch." Short Chris smacked him playfully. "Making eyes at other women right in front of me."

"Aright we get it. You're both twinks. Let's move on." Ax interrupted.

"Don't think we've given up on you, buddy." Short Chris said good-naturedly.

"Wish you luck. Who knows, maybe I'd have better luck with guys than I've been having with the ladies," Ax answered, and the three knocked glasses together before taking a drink.

"Seems like your first problem is calling them, 'the ladies.'" Greg pointed out, using his beer for emphasis. Joe Shmoe laughed with him.

"Who asked you?" Ax sneered. "What do you know about ladies anyway? How'd it work out with that last bird, Tee-something. Tammy? Tracy?"

"Talia." Greg sighed wistfully. "And for the record, we split up. Mutually. Her dad wanted her back in Nepal. It wouldn't have worked long distance."

"Ugh, long distance." Tall Chris nodded. He looked up suddenly like he'd just remembered something important. "Matches, are you still with Gina?"

"Two years and counting," Matches grinned proudly.

"Damn."

"Why?"

"Chris and I were redoing that new lair for Two-Face on the East Side and we brought this girl, Mary Berry, in to do the detailing for the yin-yang mosaics and let me tell you she is a ball of fire. Literally. I thought she was going to burn the place down the way she was burning through packs, 'specially with all the turpentine and C4, but god, she's the perfect woman for you. Didn't stop talking the whole time, and I know what a gossip you are."

Matches bit down on the match between his teeth and said, "Huh."

"He's not even trying to deny it." Short Chris laughed.

The kid looked away from the bar like he'd just registered what Chris had said.

"Two… Face?" he asked slowly, halting over the words like it was all the English he knew. What Matches could see under the mask looked like a frown and his finger pointed accusingly at the Chrisses.

"No, no. We don't work for Two-Face. Maybe they've picked up a job for him, but we're contractors. Set up lairs for just about everyone in here." Tall Chris said.

"Except Mad Hatter." Short Chris interjected.

"Never for Tetch," Tall Chris agreed darkly.

"I swear, one of these days I'll make you tell me what he ever did to you." Ax shook his head.

"Three words. Anime body pillow. That's all you ever want to know." Short Chris answered before draining his glass.

Matches had no idea what that meant, some kind of cartoon thing maybe, but by the way Greg shuddered it must have been pretty messed up. He looked down at the empty glass in front of him and frowned. Finch still hadn't come back with his Daniels.

He tripped when he stood up, catching the back of the kid's chair to steady himself. The Chrisses were too busy arguing about details of Tetch's sins for anyone to make fun of Matches' clumsiness. He hurried away while they were distracted. The bar had calmed down from the hysteria when they'd first arrived, and everyone was minding their own business. At any other bar it'd be business as usual, but here it was weird. This was supposed to be some crazy villain bar right?

The actual bar was full of people, and it was a mix of B and C- list villains. Matches muscled in and waited for the bartender to see him.

"Jack Daniels on the rocks," he half-shouted drunkenly, but careful not to slur or risk getting cut off. The bartender slid him the drink so quickly Matches blinked to make sure he hadn't already had it made. Then he took a long drink.

When he turned, he saw who'd he was sitting next to.

"Hey, you're Killer Croc," he said, wobbling a little on his feet. "Damn, Blake was wrong. Some scrawny lizard boy-" he snorted out a laugh as he stumbled away. A massive hand clamped around his arm like a vice and jerked him back.

"What did Blake say?" Killer Croc demanded.

"N…n…nothing."

Killer Croc snapped his jaws and Matches gulped.

"I mean, uh… well… he said that you were an overgrown lizard with a… a… peanut for a brain and a dick to match and that… well… just because you're the size of a hippo doesn't mean you're tough shit."

Killer Croc roared in anger.

"BLAKE!" he thundered, shoving tables out of the way as he stomped over to the lounge where Catman was reclining on a couch. He sat up real fast at the sight of a five-hundred something pound crocodile-man storming toward him.

"Oh shit." Matches murmured and hurried back to his table. He fought against the crowd that sprang up and hurried out of the dining room to watch Catman try to survive against a furious Killer Croc.

"Matches, what the hell did you do?" Greg laughed, watching the flow of people heading in the direction of the crashes and shouts.

"I didn't do nuthin."

"Killer Croc?" Tall Chris asked.

"And Catman." Matches slurred.

"Forty on Croc." Joe Shmoe stood up.

"Blake has his cloak?" Ax asked.

Matches nodded slowly, sinking in his chair. He fumbled for a fresh match from the box in his pocket and clumsily stuck it in his mouth, chewing on the wood nervously. If Croc and Catman realized what he'd done, he was in for the beating of his life. Matches took a breath, trying to ignore the grins on his asshole friends' faces. He heard a sniff and looked over to see the kid staring at him, eyes going wide underneath the mask.

"Fifty on Blake." Ax said.

"Deal." Short Chris shook his hand. With that, Ax, Joe Shmoe, and the Chrises headed for the fight.

"You coming, Matches?" Greg asked. Matches took a long drink and stayed silent, letting the whiskey burn down his throat. Greg looked between Match, who was trying not to sway in his seat, and the kid, who'd gone back to staring at Cobblepot's door, before he shrugged and walked away. The room had been full, but now there were only a handful of people still at their tables, leaving Matches and the kid practically alone.

The kid slumped, looking towards Cobblepot's door anxiously. Matches flinched at the sound of the loudest crash yet, followed by a roar of fury.

"Why did you do that?" The kid asked, breaking the silence. Matches blinked in surprise. There was no trace of an accent; Matches would bet his secondhand Buick that the kid was a native Gothamite. So why was he pretending he didn't speak English?

"I didn't do nuthin." Matches repeated drunkenly.

"Yeah, right. What do you want?"

"None of your business."

The kid looked unimpressed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Suit yourself."

He started to stand up and Matches folded immediately. "Aright, alright, sorry. How'd you know?"

"You were sober when you stood up, then as soon as everyone starts shouting and running to see the fight you came back drunk off your ass. You're not drunk. You're not even a little buzzed."

"How do you… figure?" Matches tried to raise an eyebrow but ended up blinking in a drunken stupor. He shook his head clumsily and accidentally knocked over his glass.

The kid caught the glass before any of it spilled.

"Nice try. That's your third drink in the two hours you've been here. You've barely touched this. Even if you had, those matches are treated with a chemical that counteracts alcohol. There's nothing else in the world that smells like it."

"Damn, you're good." Matches said, pulling the offending match out of his mouth and snapping it in half before sticking it in his pocket.

"That's the problem," the kid muttered. He shook his head and looked up. "What are you doing here?"

"I'd tell you I'm here for a drink but I won't waste your time with that. The best way to get information is straight from the source."

"You're an informant?" The kid asked dubiously.

"Nah, nothing like that. I just make it my business to know."

"Knowledge is power." The kid said darkly.

"Something like that." Matches agreed. "How much does your boss care what you get up to?"

The kid's jaw clenched. "Don't tell me anything he can't know."

"Fair enough. I'm here for a friend of a friend of a friend who's got the hots for Catwoman. They don't much care for the idea of your boss being in her business. No offense."

"None taken." The kid snorted.

"Not a lot of love lost there?"

The kid shuddered and looked down. If Matches had any kids, his parental alarms would be going off at the obvious signals of an abused child. As it was, he glared furiously at the door before the kid looked back up.

"Parents?"

The kid's head shot up and leveled a death glare at Matches. Whoops. Touchy subject.

"Died a long time ago."

"Anybody ever file a missing report? CPS? Foster care?"

This time, the kid actually laughed, but it was the bitterest laugh Matches had ever heard. "I'm not missing. Legally, I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be except when I'm not."

"And if you go to the cops?"

"I can't prove anything. And the stuff he's made me do, he has evidence. Cold, hard, indisputable proof. If I try anything, he'll get me thrown back in juvie before I can say a word."

For a while, Matches was silent. Then he held out his glass and asked, "Have you tried getting drunk?"

The kid actually laughed at that.

"That's one way to get myself killed."

"You say that like he's threatened to."

Again, the kid shrunk in on himself, but this time he rubbed his wrists and looked away.

"Jesus." Matches said.

"Why am I telling you any of this? I shouldn't even be sitting here, let alone talking to you." He muttered.

"So why are you?"

The kid shot a dark glare at the door and suddenly Matches could see exactly what was in front of him. Fury and desperation, paired with hopeless, terrified grief and exhausted acceptance of the chains weighing him down. If there was any doubt that the kid was a victim, it died at that look on his face.

"Because you'll find everything out one way or another. That's your thing, right Bats?"

Matches blinked.

"What did you call me?"

"Bats. It's a nickname for Batman."

"Nice, kid. Real nice. What'd I ever do to you that you're saying shit like that to me?"

"Same profile. Nose, chin, jawline, build. It matches. Didn't mean that as a pun. You've been here doing recon all night."

Matches considered denying it, but there was a tangible shift as the act was replaced by Batman's intensity. Renegade barely acknowledged it and Batman added it to the mental file he'd been making all night.

"So this is what you do in your spare time?" Renegade asked. It would have been a joke if it wasn't for the despair on his face. "Stake out bars so you can stalk Bruce Wayne's girlfriend? She's only in it for the money, you know. And whatever she can find out on the League by pretending to turn good."

Batman filed that away too, his suspicion that Deathstroke was interested in Selina's relationships confirmed.

"Don't believe everything he tells you," Batman graveled, staring at the door that led to Cobblepot's office suites.

"I don't get to choose that." Renegade answered bitterly, voice tightening with every word. "Whatever he says is what I do. He says jump, I jump. He says shoot, I pull the trigger. He rips away my name and calls me Renegade, that's who I am. That's all I am."

"It doesn't have to be." Batman answered.

"You're right, it doesn't have to be. But it is, because he decided it is."

"It doesn't have to be." Batman repeated. "GCPD headquarters is eight minutes from here. You'll qualify for protective custody. We'll keep you away from him."

"It's funny that you believe that." Renegade frowned. "You know that's why he left me out here, don't you? He told me someone might try something, and this way he's just behind the door if I get into trouble. And given that you're here to keep tabs on Catwoman, somehow I don't think you want to risk upsetting him when she's in there too."

"Catwoman can take care of herself."

Renegade didn't acknowledge the response. Batman leaned forward, encroaching on the assassin's space.

"I know what you've done, Renegade."

"Do you?" The kid looked sad.

"The question is, does Deathstroke?"

"What?"

"Does he know that you tipped Superboy off about Cadmus?"

Renegade jerked back, eyes going as wide as the mask would let them.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Renegade hissed.

"Superboy wants to believe you were trying to help. The rest of the League isn't so sure. So why don't you tell me why you did it?"

Renegade shook his head stiffly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

The denial didn't clear up enough. If Renegade was really trying to help, then he wouldn't want to risk Deathstroke finding out he'd done it. But if Deathstroke had put him up to it, he would want the League to think they could trust him.

"What does he have on you?" Batman asked. Renegade actually snorted at the question, leaning forward for emphasis.

"Everything." Renegade said. "Nothing. That's the problem."

"Glad we resolved that personal issue." Catwoman purred in his ear, signaling that the conversation was wrapping up. Batman stood, noting the way Renegade stiffened.

"Where are you going?" He asked. Batman inclined his head toward the office door. Renegade's hand twitched up to his ear, but he didn't say anything.

"You recognized me, I'd rather not take the chance with your boss." Batman answered, turning to leave. The bug he'd planted on Renegade when he'd pretended to trip would pick up anything he said and double as a tracker. Catwoman would let him know once they'd left Cobblepot's office, and keep eyes on where the pair went.

Batman got outside and while the Batmobile made its way to him, he listened to his comms.

"Slade, he's here." Renegade whispered, sounding beyond terrified. "What am I supposed to do?! He just left, there's no way he's not going to…"

Deathstroke's response clearly didn't sit well.

"That won't… it's Batman!"

Another long pause. The Batmobile pulled up and Batman climbed in, setting the autopilot to circle around the five blocks surrounding the Iceberg.

"No, he started a fight and cleared everyone out."

There was a drawn-out silence in one ear, in the other he could hear the sound of footsteps.

"No! You can't!" Renegade burst out. Deathstroke clearly did not appreciate that because the next sound was Renegade stammering, "Please, you can't, please. Don't hurt her!"

There was a long pause which left plenty of room for orders. Then finally, in a voice bordering on desperate, Renegade said, "Yes sir."

Batman was in full costume and on the roof opposite the Iceberg Lounge by the time Renegade appeared outside. He was alone, no sign of Deathstroke or Catwoman.

"We're doing the handoff now." Catwoman told him via coded message in his other ear. That meant Renegade was a distraction, supposed to keep Batman away from the stolen property deal on the other side of the building.

"Be careful. If you suspect a trap, get out. Your safety is the priority."

"I handled it myself." Was Selina's coded reply. But since she gave the all clear, Batman was free to follow Renegade.

That was a much simpler task said than done. Renegade scaled a fire escape, free climbed three stories and pulled himself over the ledge with the ease of someone walking down the street. Renegade paused, stiffened, then reached around his back, yanking at something to produce… a tracker. He dropped it and crushed it under his heel.

Dammit.

Renegade started to run, crossing the roof in a few steps and jumping to a roof only a few feet below. Batman took off after him, trying to keep up. The only advantage Batman had was his grappling gun. Renegade was constrained to shorter jumps and a more limited number of directions he could go. Unfortunately, that didn't stop him from sprinting across rooftops, dashing across the tops of wire fences, and leaping from fire escapes like gravity had no power over him.

Batman landed on the roof of a multi-block apartment, scanning through the maze of low fences and clothes-lines and access doors. Renegade had come this way; he was sure of it.

"You shouldn't have followed me." Renegade said. Batman whipped around, spotting him sitting on the roof of one of the access doors. Now that they were away from the prying eyes and ears of the Iceberg Lounge, the assassin looked a lot less stiff.

"You knew I would." Batman answered.

"So you were listening." Renegade nodded, referencing the tracker he'd discovered. "Did you hear the part where he threatened to kill Catwoman? For what it's worth, I asked him not to."

"Why are you working for him?" Batman asked, making sure his hands were clearly away from his utility belt. "You're not a killer. I know you've been trying to help. You told Superboy about Cadmus. You told Robin that Catwoman was a spy."

Renegade flinched violently and Batman took a step closer.

"Why do you work for him?"

"You don't know what I've done!" Renegade snapped, standing up so he was better positioned to run. "You don't know what I'm capable of."

"I might not know what you've done, but I know that it isn't too late to end this. Whatever your reasons, it's not too late. If you work with me, we can end this. Nobody else has to get hurt."

"Right, like it's that easy!" Renegade shouted. "You're Batman, you're supposed to know everything! Well you didn't know about me! You think I want to be here?! I don't have a choice! I—"

Renegade flinched, hand flying up to his earpiece. Horror spread across his face at Deathstroke's words. Batman felt rage building in his chest; whatever Deathstroke's game was, it ended tonight.

"Forget it. It's too late." Renegade said, voice sounding hollow.

"No. It isn't." Batman insisted firmly. "If you come with me, I will take you somewhere safe. We can protect you while we take Deathstroke down."

"How are you going to do that?!"

"We will stop him."

"You don't have a plan." Renegade mumbled like he'd just had an epiphany. A terrible, soul-crushing epiphany. "He's been ten steps ahead of you the whole time. You can't… you can't fix this."

"Come with me." Batman said. "We will keep you safe."

Renegade shook his head, taking a step back.

"I can't go with you."

"I'm not asking." Batman said. "I won't let him keep hurting you."

"I'm not going with you."

"This is your last chance to turn yourself in. It will go a lot easier for you if you cooperate, but I am taking you in one way or another."

"Easier? There's nothing easy about any of this." Renegade said. Batman saw him glance down, mapping his escape off the roof. "For what it's worth… I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

Renegade dropped off the low roof and onto the next one. Batman was ready; he'd thrown the batarang the instant Renegade moved and it exploded into a pulse of blinding light. Renegade stumbled, bringing his hands up to protect his eyes. The delay was all the time Batman needed to catch up. He swung a bolo, trying to wrap the assassin's legs together, but there was a click as Renegade extended his bo staff and intercepted the projectile. With a flick of the metal, he flung it to the side before settling into a fighting stance. Batman charged. He swung forward with his fist and rather than meet the blow with his staff, Renegade dropped under his arm. Batman shifted his weight, expecting a low sweep kick to knock him off balance. Instead, Renegade dove to the side and started running the second he rolled to his feet.

Renegade had no intention of fighting. He was trying to run away and he was good at dodging. That meant three things; Renegade didn't want a fight, the direct attack wouldn't work, and Batman needed a different approach to stop him.

In the seconds it took Renegade to reach the edge of the roof, Batman decided on a takedown. He flicked his wrist and a Batarang lodged itself into the low restraining wall. Renegade broke stride when it started beeping, but he was so focused on the explosive that he didn't notice Batman aim his grappling line. With a bang, he fired. The rope hurtled through the air and just before it reached its target, Batman yanked. The line recoiled, wrapping around Renegade's outstretched wrist. Batman pulled hard. The rope tightened and Renegade was dragged back by his wrist just as the Batarang detonated. The assassin let out a groan as his back slammed hard against the ground, the wind getting knocked out of his lungs. Before he could recover, Batman pulled a pair of cuffs out of his belt, the other hand keeping a tight grip on the grappling gun.

He misjudged the assassin's recovery time.

Before he got close enough to cuff him, Renegade's hand wrapped around the line and his legs shot up into the air while his back arched, giving himself the momentum to fly back to his feet. He wrapped his arm around the line and yanked, bo staff extending at the same moment to slam into Batman's sternum.

Even through the body armor, the hit was hard enough for Batman to double over. There was that metahuman strength Arrow and Superboy warned him about. Renegade unraveled himself from the line and started running again. Batman launched another Batarang, trying to slow him down enough to get his breath back. It worked. The projectile landed under the assassin's foot and Renegade tripped, losing his balance.

The problem was, he'd just reached the edge of the building and had been preparing to jump the eight-foot gap to the next roof.

The world slowed down.

Renegade's foot flew up, destroying his momentum.

Instead of jumping, he fell.

"No!" Batman shouted, staggering to his feet as Renegade disappeared over the side of the building. He crossed the distance in two steps, throwing himself after the assassin. Renegade looked up at Batman, terror written on his face as he reached up. Batman's greater mass lent him speed and after a second, he was close enough to wrap his hand around Renegade's wrist. The instant that his grip tightened, his other hand was shooting the grappling line at a nearby building. The line caught, the sudden change in momentum jerking Batman's' shoulder roughly, before slowly lowering them down to the low roof below them.

Batman cut the line and they fell the last two feet, landing easily. Renegade stared at Batman, face frozen in shock. Before he could say anything, a force like a train slammed into Batman's side and knocked him to the middle of the roof.

"I believe you have something of mine." Deathstroke said, yanking his apprentice back by the shoulder. "I suppose I should thank you for saving him. I never would have let him out if I'd realized he'd gotten so clumsy."

Batman straightened, cracking his knuckles and breathing through the pain.

"You shouldn't have come to Gotham." Batman graveled. "You've escaped justice for too long. Don't think your luck will hold forever."

"Oh it's not luck. I don't leave anything to chance." Deathstroke tilted his head to the side, drawing attention back to his apprentice. "Nothing."

Batman found himself staring at the apprentice, who was standing behind Deathstroke like he was trying to hide. Deathstroke stood firmly between them, a twisted version of a protector. Batman's doubts about Renegade resurged. He looked scared, but it wasn't aimed at Deathstroke.

"Well Batman? Are you impressed?"

"What is there to be impressed by?" Batman snarled.

"That's a bit harsh. I modeled him after your very own sidekick, I'd have thought you could at least recognize talent."

"You're sick. Let him go."

Deathstroke snorted.

"If you insist, Batman. Renegade, you're free to go." Deathstroke swept his hand out towards his apprentice, who stood as still as a statue. "Go on."

Renegade didn't move, never looking away from the same spot.

"No? I'm sorry, Batman, it appears he's exactly where he wants to be."

Batman tightened his fists.

"Enough games. Whatever you've done to him, it ends tonight."

"Whatever I've done to him?" Deathstroke laughed. "Oh please Batman, don't tell me it was that easy for him to win you over. Did you enjoy your conversation with my apprentice? Find out anything interesting from him? I would hate for you to have wasted your trip."

"As a matter of fact, your apprentice was very helpful. The hair sample I took will be more than enough to get an identity match. If you're abusing a child legally under your care, that's a conviction you can't weasel your way out of."

Deathstroke didn't appear bothered, but Renegade stiffened at Batman's words. The little bit of his face that was visible under his mask lost all the rest of its color.

"Robin's running the DNA now, we'll have a match any minute." Batman lied. Deathstroke didn't need to know the hair sample would be insufficient to run through the sequencer.

"Is that why he couldn't be bothered to join us? I admit, I'm disappointed. I wanted to see how my apprentice fared against the original model. I was impressed the last time we met… although I do worry about his health. He seemed quite out of breath by the end."

Batman saw red. When Deathstroke ambushed the Team at S.T.A.R. labs, he'd strangled Robin. It was nothing short of miraculous that he hadn't burst an artery based on how bad the bruising had been.

"Don't you dare talk about him."

"It appears I struck a nerve. As much fun as it would be to strike a few more, I've already gotten what I came for so it's time for me to take my leave."

"You're not going anywhere."

"Do you really think you can take us both without your precious sidekick?"

"I don't need Robin to stop you."

"Oh? Did you hear that Renegade? He doesn't need Robin." Deathstroke snorted as Batman pulled a set of Batarangs out of his utility belt. "Well, Batman, this has been fun, but I have no intention of fighting with you today. Another time, perhaps."

"I don't think so."

Batman let the Batarangs fly, but Deathstroke was ready. His sword flashed, deflecting all the projectiles and swinging around to point at Batman's throat.

"Hey ugly!" A new voice shouted from up above. "Didn't anyone teach you not to play with knives?!" Seconds later, a figure dropped onto the roof, slinging a projectile at the sword and knocking it out of the way. For a split second, everyone just stared at the newcomer. She was short with long red hair and not nearly enough protection in the messy excuse for a uniform, not when she was standing a foot away from one of the deadliest men on the planet.

Batman felt his heart stop; she was going to get herself killed.

At that instant, Deathstroke and his apprentice used Batman's distraction to disappear in a cloud of smoke. The figure watched the smoke dissipate before nodding sharply and turning to Batman with a face-splitting grin.

"Did you see that?!" The girl exclaimed gleefully.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?!" Batman roared.

"Please, I scared them off! Did you see them run! That was great!" Barbara threw her hands out to the sides, practically beaming with excitement.

"Do you have any idea what you just did?!"

"I do, actually. I saved your life. Mr. Halloween was about to cut your head off. So I think what you meant to say was 'Thank you,' and by the way, you're welcome."

Batman took a second to process what had just happened. Deathstroke was gone, and so was Renegade. Batman was no closer to figuring out the apprentice's identity than he'd been when they started. He just had more questions with no way to answer them. Batman took a deep breath, pulling all his anger and outrage and fear under control.

"How did you find me?"

"The audio feed from your com link. I converted the transmission to shortwave, then ran it back through my da—an old radio receiver and sent it through my computer. I already wrote the program to record the distance per sound wave and ping any overlapping signals, so all I had to do was overlay it on a GPS and get there in time to kick butt."

"Does your father know where you are?" Batman demanded, grudgingly impressed at her methods.

"No, and you're not going to tell him!"

"If you go home and never try anything this reckless again, I'll consider not telling the commissioner."

"You can't stop me."

"Watch me."

"You need me out here."

"It's way too dangerous."

"I've been training for this my whole life! I've taken self-defense classes since I could walk! Besides, you guys need me."

"It's too dangerous."

"Is that what you told Robin when he started?"

Batman closed his eyes and took a breath.

"That's different?"

"How? Because he's an orphan? Because no one would miss him if something happened?" She shot back, daring him to fall for the bait.

"Barbara." Batman growled.

"Batgirl." She snapped back. "You let Robin out because he was right; you needed him and he wanted to be there. Well now Robin needs someone watching his back and it's clearly not going to be you."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"I don't know what I'm talking about?! Robin's going through hell and you're just making it worse. He needs someone to watch his back and you are not going to stop me."

"… I'm making it worse?"

"You didn't tell him you were dating Catwoman."

"What? Is that what this is about?"

"What happened?!" Catwoman landed on the roof beside them. "Where are they?"

"You!" Barbara whirled, projectiles in her hands.

"Barbara, enough." Batman snapped. He turned to Catwoman. "They escaped."

"Did you get a name? A place? Anything?" She asked. Batman's frown deepened.

"What's going on?" Barbara demanded. "What's she doing here?"

"Same question," Catwoman said.

"We'll debrief back at the Cave." Batman told Catwoman. "I need to take Barbara home before she gets herself killed."

"You're not getting rid of me!" Barbara protested.

"You just let the Justice League's most wanted criminal and his hostage escape. You are going home and if you say one more word, I will tell your father everything you've done tonight." Batman snapped. It was harsh, and definitely unfair to pin Deathstroke's escape solely on her, but being harsh was acceptable if it stopped Barbara from getting herself killed.

Tonight had been enough of a disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Barbara. She really tried. To be fair to her, Slade's plans to escape would have been a lot more miserable for Dick, so Babs actually did help him.
> 
> Batman has officially met Renegade! He didn't manage to take him in, but he's at least confirmed that Deathstroke is coercing Renegade to cooperate. Unfortunately, if he can't get Renegade away from him, there's not much Batman can do to help. (As far as Bruce not recognizing him, Dick was wearing a lot of stage makeup and a voice modulator. Even if they look similar, Renegade had a lot of cuts and bruises on his face. By the time Bruce gets back home, Dick has long since gotten back to the Manor and washed it all off. )
> 
> Mwahaha.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought about this chapter or if you're enjoying this story or if you just have conspiracy theories about what's going to happen next and what the hell Slade's plan was bringing Renegade face to face with Batman!
> 
> See you soon!


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm graduating from college today! It's been a crazy busy month and I've got a pretty long chapter to celebrate with! Thank you all for being patient, I know it's been a little while since the last update but I promise this chapter is worth the wait.
> 
> The POV changes might get a little confusing so it starts with Dick just before they go to the Iceberg lounge. It'll switch to Artemis's pov a few days later, then back to Dick, then Bruce, then Dick finishes the chapter out.

Dick Grayson

Wednesday, January 5th, 2013

* * *

"The Iceberg Lounge is a trap." Slade says when I make it to the address he sent me.

"What do you mean, it's a trap?"

"You're smart, Richard. Act like it." Slade snaps.

I scowl at the insult.

"Just get to the part where you tell me why it's a trap."

"After your mishap of a conversation with Bruce, he'll be keeping a much closer eye on Selina. Just in case. She's had weeks to organize this handoff. Choosing the Iceberg Lounge is completely out of character for her; she wants an audience and witnesses. That means we need the ability to cause a distraction. That's where you come in."

"You can deal with it on your own."

"My version of 'dealing with it' usually involves bullets. If Catwoman gets in my way, I will kill her."

"No!" I shout. Slade raises an eyebrow at me, unimpressed. "You can't do that!"

"I thought you hated her."

"That doesn't mean I want her… you can't…"

"Hence why you're here. We need to set up your disguise. Did you see Selina before you left the manor?"

She was helping Tim with his social studies homework in one of the sitting rooms when I left. They all think I'm still there, especially if Jason passed on the message that I want to be left alone in my room.

"Yeah."

"Good. Make sure she sees you again when she returns. She needs to see Renegade with injuries that Richard never had."

"Whoa, backup. What injuries?" I demand.

"Stage makeup. Although if you prefer otherwise, I'm happy to do it the other way."

"You need her to think you're beating the shit out of me?" A thought hits me and I feel idiotic for forgetting about it. "What if… he's on patrol tonight. What do we do if…"

"If Batman shows?" Slade asks seriously.

"What if sees me?"

"This voice modulator will change the pitch and intonation of your speech. In the extremely unlikely chance of an encounter, your priority will be to slip him, remove your disguise, and get back to the manor before he can return and see you missing."

"That's your plan?!" I demand. "What if he recognizes me anyway?! What if my mask falls off? What if he catches me and takes it off?! He's my dad, a couple bumps and bruises aren't going to cut it!"

"Then you had better make sure you don't get caught."

"No. Slade, I'm not going. This is insane!"

"How better to ensure the security of your identity?"

"What are you talking about?"

"In theory, it's a risk. But, once Selina sees Renegade and Richard as two separate people within minutes of each other, it'll make it impossible for her to connect the two of you. She is the biggest risk right now."

"That's not my problem. It was your idea to bring me to the museum in the first place." I shoot back. "I'm not going."

"I won't allow her to be a security risk." Slade says. "I'm offering you a chance to avoid my usual methods."

"I thought you agreed not to threaten people I care about. Unless you want to call off our deal."

"Why do you insist on being difficult?"

"I'm the one being difficult?! You just threatened to shoot my dad's girlfriend if I don't go with you to a bar full of supervillains and criminals who literally all want me dead."

"I didn't want to tell you this." Slade says, and I roll my eyes. Sure he didn't. "Batman discovered the garage's location."

My heart stops.

"Fortunately, it was empty at the time, but he is getting too close. We need to establish separation."

"You weren't expecting him to find it." I realize. "This isn't about Selina at all, is it? You need Batman to hear reports that Renegade was at the Iceberg the same night he knows I was home."

"I knew there was a brain in there somewhere." Slade sounds smug and it pisses me off.

"Is Batman going to be at the Iceberg? Don't lie to me!"

"It's likely that he's planning a stakeout." Slade answers. "As soon as he confirms your presence, your priority is to disappear and get back to the manor."

I take a deep breath. My hands are trembling.

"Slade, I can't do it. He's going to recognize me. If he finds out…"

"If Batman finds out that you're my apprentice, then your cover is blown. You know what happens then."

"No. Slade, no. Please, don't make me do this."

"You know how much I hate unnecessary risks. Batman is getting too close. This is not the only way, but it is by far the best way to ensure that your cover is safe. If you need to hear the alternatives, I'll tell you, but I warn you that you will not like any of them."

"I want to hear the plan. For the Iceberg."

"Catwoman has arranged for the deal to take place in Cobblepot's office. You'll stay outside, where you're visible to the bar's patrons."

"What if they try something?"

"If someone tries to hurt you?" Slade clarifies. I wince and he takes it as a nod. "Hurt them. Whatever force necessary to eliminate the threat. But I wouldn't worry. After all, you are under my protection."

"Your protection?" The words slip out incredulously before I can stop them.

"Don't sound so shocked. You're my apprentice. Nobody touches you."

"Except you." I mutter.

"Need I remind you that we are partners now?"

I take a breath, hands curling into fists. He's right. Dammit, he's right. And he's not going to let this go.

"So if I'm not there to fight with anyone, what am I supposed to do? Just stand there the entire time?"

"If the opportunity arises, I suggest you try and mingle. You may learn some things that your League would find valuable."

"And if people start asking me questions?"

"Tell them whatever you want. Make up any story you like, the point is to make you more visible."

"Any story?"

"I suggest you not reveal to that particular crowd that you're the same Boy Wonder who's sent most of them to Arkham, Blackgate or Gotham General, but other than that…"

* * *

The Iceberg Lounge

* * *

Everyone is staring at me. It sounds cliché, but literally every person in the room is watching me. I hold still, staring at a random spot on the dining room wall. A bead of sweat rolls down the side of my face and drips down my neck. It's a good thing Slade said I don't have to be a robot, because I couldn't pretend not to be scared right now if my life depended on it.

A treacherous and incredibly unhelpful voice in the back of my head reminds me that it is actually a matter of life and death. I've arrested a lot of the people in here, and beaten up almost everyone else.

I especially really don't like the way Harley is looking at me like I'm about to become her newest obsession. And why does she have a whiteboard?

The silence is broken by a glittery yellow waitress getting up from one of the booths and crossing the room on her way to the bar. The chatter starts up again, and soon everyone gets bored of staring at me. It feels kind of… anti-climactic. Slade said nobody would try anything, but I'm basically alone in enemy territory, completed surrounded and outnumbered. I hate this.

What would Slade do if I just left?

Everyone has gone back to ignoring me, except for Harley who doesn't count because I'm trying really hard to ignore her. One of the guys at the table closest to me waves me over.

"They're going to be a while. Come take a load off."

I stare at him. Is he serious? That has to be a trap, right? But Slade did tell me to try and mingle, so maybe I should? The guy looks familiar and it takes me a second to place him; he's one of the Joker's henchmen. Except right now he doesn't look like Chuckles, he just looks like a regular, friendly guy who's out for a beer with his friends.

"Come on, we don't bite!" The tallest guy at the table adds.

"At least, we won't bite you," The guy next to him winks, squeezing the taller man's arm. Clearly they're a couple, maybe even married by the matching rings on their hands.

"Is that a promise?"

"Don't mind them." Not-Chuckles shakes his head. "Come sit. They're going to be in there for a while and most of us have showered recently."

"Move over, fatass, give him the sightlines." The guy with a huge scar on his face shoves another guy to the side. "Here, kid. You can see the whole place."

The guy moves over without complaint and that decides it. These guys might be henchmen and criminal scum, but at least they seem like okay-ish people and they're not homophobes. Plus, I can definitely take them if I have to. Nobody is paying me any attention when I close the distance and sit in the empty chair, but as soon as I do, I feel even more on-edge. The scarred guy stares at me before he and Chuckles have a weird stare-off.

"Catwoman, huh?" The tall guy says, glancing at the closed door to Cobblepot's office. "Damn, if I was five years younger and not a flaming homo…"

"Chris, you bitch." His maybe-husband smacks his arm playfully. "Making eyes at other women right in front of me."

"Aright we get it. You're both twinks. Let's move on." The guy on my side interrupts. He's wearing way too much body spray, so I'm going to call him Axe. The scarred guy is Scar. Chuckles can be Not-Chuckles and I haven't decided about the others. A quick look around the bar shows it's mostly small-time Rogues and henchmen. Aside from Harley, Scarecrow is at a table in the back and I saw Killer Croc at the bar when we came in.

"Don't think we've given up on you, buddy." The shorter guy says good-naturedly.

"Wish you luck. Who knows, maybe I'd have better luck with guys than I've been having with the ladies," Axe answers and they raise their glasses in solidarity.

"Seems like your first problem is calling them, 'the ladies.'" Not-Chuckles points out, using his beer for emphasis. The guy in a blue shirt that I haven't come up with a nickname for laughs with him.

"Who asked you, Greg?" Axe sneers. "What do you know about ladies anyway? How'd it work out with that last bird, Tee-something. Tammy? Tracy?"

"Talia." Greg sighs wistfully. Alright, I guess Not-Chuckles is out. "And for the record, we split up. Mutually. Her dad wanted her back in Nepal. It wouldn't have worked long distance."

"Ugh, long distance." The tall guy nods. He looks up suddenly and I tense. "Matches, are you still with Gina?"

"Two years and counting," Scar grins proudly. I'm doing pretty badly with nicknames.

"Damn."

"Why?"

"Chris and I were redoing that new lair for Two-Face on the East Side and we brought this girl, Mary Berry, in to do the detailing for the yin-yang mosaics and let me tell you she is a ball of fire. Literally. I thought she was going to burn the place down the way she was burning through packs, 'specially with all the turpentine and C4, but god, she's the perfect woman for you. Didn't stop talking the whole time, and I know what a gossip you are."

I look over at the Chrisses and freeze. These guys work for Two-Face? Batman's been trying to track him for weeks, maybe they know what he's planning.

Matches bites down on the match between his teeth and says, "Huh."

"He's not even trying to deny it." Shorter Chris laughs.

I raise my head slowly and they all turn to look at me.

"Two… Face?" I ask slowly, letting the words slur together and listening to how weird my voice sounds with the modulator. I point at the Chrisses accusingly, lowering my eyebrows. Everyone understands the question.

"No, no. We don't work for Two-Face. Maybe they've picked up a job for him, but we're contractors. Set up lairs for just about everyone in Gotham." Taller Chris says. Damn, so much for intel on Two-Face.

"Except Mad Hatter." Shorter Chris grins.

"Never for Tetch," Taller Chris agrees darkly.

"I swear, one of these days I'll make you tell me what he ever did to you." Axe shakes his head.

"Three words. Anime body pillow. That's all you ever want to know." The shorter Chris answers before draining his glass.

Oof. That's way more information than I ever wanted to know. When Slade said I might find out valuable intel, I'm sure that didn't include finding out the Mad Hatter is a weeb. I manage not to react, but the Joker henchman Chuckles (who I just found out is a normal-seeming guy named Greg) recoils in horror and that about sums it up.

Matches trips over my chair on his way to the bar, and I don't really think about it until shouts erupt from the other room. Matches comes stumbling back into the dining room, looking as guilty as a drunk guy can possibly look.

"BLAKE!" Killer Croc roars, followed by the sound of breaking glass and shattering wood and a room full of criminals going crazy at the start of a barfight.

"Matches, what the hell did you do?" Greg laughs, watching everyone run out of the room to watch the fight. I look over at the door again, trying to figure out if I should stay at the table or go watch the fight. Slade couldn't care less what I do out here, but everyone's going to expect me to stay by the door.

"I didn't do nuthin."

"Killer Croc?" The taller Chris asks.

"And Catman." Matches slurs in response, sinking into his chair like he's trying to disappear.

"Seventy on Croc." The quiet guy says.

"Blake has his cloak?" The redhead asks. Matches nods, reaching into his grimy coat pocket for a matchbox. I can't laugh at the fact that this guy is literally a walking stereotype of the common criminal. He would fit in perfectly in an old 80's cops and robbers show.

Matches sticks the match in his mouth and chews it nervously. I resist the urge to make a joke about it, mostly because that's a horrible idea that will ruin my cover, when I get a tiny whiff of something. It smells a little like raisins, but if the raisins had been left to soak in dry-erase marker ink until they fermented. I sniff again, my eyes narrowing.

I know that smell. I know that smell. It's… it's….

My stomach plummets through the floor, taking my heart and my lungs with it. My whole body freezes, everything locking up at the same time and all I can do is stare.

It's a super potent anti-intoxicant chemical. Batman's own formula. The one that only Batman has access to, the one that Batman dries into pill form for nights when Bruce Wayne needs to be seen drinking.

A random grunt is sitting in the Iceberg Lounge, pretending to be plastered while chewing on a match soaked in anti-intoxicant that only Batman has access to. That means either this random grunt stole Batman's matches or… Matches is Batman.

For a second, I almost burst out laughing at the sheer absurdity of the situation. I'm sitting five inches away from my dad in a place neither of us should be, both of us wearing ridiculous disguises and pretending to be someone else. Then the panic sets in. It's one thing to expect Batman to be staking out the bar from the roof across the street, but it's another to actually be right next to him. Slade promised he won't recognize me if I play my cards right. It might already be too late but there's way too much at stake not to try.

* * *

"Slade, Batman's here." I whisper into my com. "What am I supposed to do?! He just left, there's no way he's not going to try something."

"You know what to do. Assume he's following you. Lead him on a chase and slip away when you can get to the car."

"Slip away?! That won't work… it's Batman! Slade, it's Batman!"

"Did he try to make a scene in front of everyone?"

"No, he started a fight and cleared everyone out."

"Good. Then that means he was after information. If he left, he's likely pulling a costume change. Go outside, get him to follow you. I'll handle Catwoman."

"Handle… No! You can't!" I shout, before catching myself and lowering my voice again. "Please, you can't, please. Don't hurt her!"

"Relax. You know what to do. And you have my word, no one will be harmed tonight."

I take a deep breath. Before I can take more than a step, Slade adds, "Oh, and check yourself for any trackers."

Shit!

* * *

Slade lets go of my arm after pulling me through the door of his latest safehouse. My heart is pounding but I can barely feel it, let alone process whatever Slade just snapped at me. Batman didn't recognize me. I was a foot away from him the whole time and he didn't know it was me. He was trying to capture me and he didn't have a clue it was me. He knocked me off a roof. I didn't have my grappling hook, if he hadn't caught me, I—

"Renegade!" Slade shouts, hand grabbing my chin to pull me out of the whirling terror inside my head. "You need to go. Now."

"He got a hair sample, he's going to find out—"

"He also said you were at the cave running the test. He lied."

"But—"

"We will discuss it all later but right now, you don't have time. Get changed and go back to the manor, NOW."

My hands tremble.

"Babs, she's… she's going to get herself killed." I whisper, the flash of red hair in the dark replaying in my head. What was she thinking?!

A stinging pain erupts in my cheeks as Slade rips of the prosthetics. The fake cuts and bruises looked real when I put them on, and seeing the flesh-colored polymer against the floor makes me nauseous. Slade's hand closes around my neck and I freeze, terror flooding through my chest. But the hand never tightens, and nothing stops the air from filling into my lungs like when he strangled me at S.T.A.R. Labs. He just tugs the voice modulator out from under the collar of my suit and pulls his hand away.

"Richard." Slade says, voice softer. "Focus. I heard everything you said, and none of it was incriminating enough for him to put anything together as long as you stick to the plan. You need to go. Now."

He's right. Focus. I breathe in, counting for a few beats, then I let the air out. I just have to beat Bruce back to the manor, pretend I've been in my room the whole time, let him see that I don't have any of Renegade's cuts and bruises. He never has to know about any of this.

* * *

Turns out, I really didn't need to worry about beating Batman back to the manor. I snuck past the security cameras, took a shower to wash off the last remains of the dirt and sweat, and "casually" wandered down to the kitchen to get a glass of water. No sign of Bruce or Selina. Everyone else was already asleep, even Alfred. It was close to five by the time I finally fell asleep from pure exhaustion and Batman still wasn't back.

Even after he came back the next day, I still didn't see him. It's not until a few days later that I psych myself up enough to venture down to Batcave. He's suited up and heading for the Batwing.

"Uh, Batman? Where are you going?"

"I'm working a case with Superman." He says coldly. I swallow the lump in my throat and push ahead. If he recognized me at the Iceberg, he would have done something by now, right?

"What case?"

"I don't want you involved."

"What?" I step back. Secrets or not, that hurt. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No. You didn't." Batman sighs, stopping and actually turning around to look at me. The cowl hides most of his face, but it doesn't take a genius to see how stressed he looks. "I really didn't want to tell you about this, not because of anything you did or because I don't value your skills, but because I don't want you anywhere near him."

"Who? Joker?"

"Robin. I need you to promise me that you will not attempt to work this case. You will stay away and let me deal with it while I know that you're safe." He holds up a hand before I can get a word out. "I know that sometimes you hear that phrase as a call to action, but I'm completely serious. Robin, I'm asking you to trust me. Do I have your word?"

A shiver runs down my back. I haven't seen him this intense in a long time. Whatever this case is, I'll stay out of it. It has to be really, really bad for Batman to ask me like this.

"Okay. I promise."

"Thank you." Batman says.

"What's the case?" I ask quietly.

"Deathstroke is in Gotham." Batman says and I freeze. Nausea rises in my stomach, but there's no accusation, not even a hint of suspicion. He doesn't know. "Following recent events, he's been upgraded to a much more serious threat. The League is actively working to bring him to justice."

I take a step back.

"Dick, you promised."

"I… I'll stay away."

"Thank you."

I go back up to the manor, not sure if I'm relieved or horrified. The secret might be safe for now, but this is bad. This is really bad. Slade was right; Batman is getting too close. As horrible as that night was, Slade's plan at the Iceberg worked.

This time.

But Batman is just getting started. Slade will never let me go, especially not when he's been risking his own reputation by letting me pass secrets. Even if Batman finds out the truth, it won't change anything about our deal. Batman doesn't have a plan. He told me so himself, standing on top of the roof when he thought I was just another enemy. Slade is so far ahead of him it's so far past funny that it outstripped horrifying and circled all the way back to being funny again. If Batman finds out, I'll lose everything. I'll never see my family again. And I won't let that happen.

After S.T.A.R. Labs, I was ready to do anything to protect my family. But now that they're out of danger, being taken away from them is the worst thing I can imagine. I can't lose them. It'll kill me.

* * *

Artemis Crock

Mount Justice

Saturday, January 8th, 2013

* * *

"Recognized; Artemis B07." The zeta beam announced.

"Artemis, just in time!" Green Arrow grinned. Artemis looked at the group standing around the holocomputer and noticed her mentor was the only one smiling. The rest of the team was already there, but it was like walking into a standoff. Superboy and Zatanna stood in between Robin and Red Arrow. Neither of them looked particularly happy. Kid Flash and Miss Martian were on the other side of the ring, standing a little too close to each other. Aqualad looked upset about something, but sad upset, not angry. Red Tornado and Black Canary stood in the back, eyes scanning over the team.

Red Arrow nodded at Artemis in a casual greeting. Artemis blinked before she bumped up the weirdness to a ten and went to stand by Zatanna.

Choosing not to comment on the hyper-tense atmosphere, Green Arrow said, "Okay, people, listen up. Batman's got to handle a legal issue out in Metropolis, but he gave me a heads-up. Sportsmaster was spotted coming through Louis Armstrong International Airport in New Orleans."

Artemis flinched as a picture of her father appeared onscreen.

"In costume? Nervy." Zatanna grinned, trying to make a joke. Artemis felt her throat go dry, hoping nobody was watching her freak out.

"In street clothes. Facial recognition picked him up." Green Arrow crossed his arms. "Find out what he's up to."

"All of us?" Superboy asked, pointing to the full team. "Seems like overkill for a shadow job."

"Think of it as… an abundance of caution." Green Arrow shrugged. "Extra stealth practice."

"Hopefully, the extra power won't be necessary." Canary cut in. "Besides, it's been a while since the full team was on a mission, and it will be helpful to have a simple mission to adjust to the larger roster."

"Larger roster?" Kid Flash asked. "You mean Roy?"

"In addition to Red Arrow, Captain Marvel has asked to join the team on some missions. He can't be here today, but he's looking forward to working with you again."

"Of course, if you guys really feel like it's overkill, you don't all have to go." Green Arrow said, sneaking a glance at Artemis. She swallowed, staring at the picture of her dad onscreen. Exhaling, she looked at her mentor and let her eyes narrow in determination. She was going. Sportsmaster had to be stopped.

"It will be good to have the whole team together." Aqualad said firmly.

* * *

Artemis looked around the bioship, trying to distract herself. The weird tension was definitely back, there was no way she was making it up. Miss Martian and Kid Flash sat in the back by the flight controls, both concentrating on flying the ship way more intently than they needed to. If she didn't know better, she'd think they were having a psychic conversation. In the front of the ship, Zatanna was arguing with Superboy. Neither of them looked too concerned, so Artemis didn't feel like calling them out on it. Especially not while the whole team was being so weird. Aqualad and Red Arrow discussed their intel on their other side, valiantly attempting to stay above the mysterious drama unfurling around them.

Robin was in the chair next to her, reading through files on his display screen. He looked… awful. She was used to seeing him confident and ready for anything, and Artemis felt antsy seeing the Boy Wonder so on-edge.

"You okay?" She asked him. Robin gave her an unconvincing smile.

"Are you?" He returned the question. Artemis thought about the image of her dad on screen and her stomach churned. What was she thinking, coming on this mission? The last thing in the world she wanted was to see her dad, let alone risk her teammates finding out the truth about her.

"It's going to be fine, Artemis." Robin told her encouragingly.

"You don't know that."

"Maybe not. But if it's going to go to hell no matter what we do, might as well relax and try our best, right?"

"That's optimistic."

"Hey, I try." He flashed her an empty grin.

"Did you talk to Red Arrow? We were sparring the other day, he said he wanted to talk."

"Nope." Robin answered, returning his eyes to his screen. "He knows where I am if he wants to talk. Not that I really want to. What about you guys? I know he's given you a lot of shit."

Artemis glanced over, but Red Arrow was still deep in conversation with Aqualad.

"Kind of? He seemed… like he was trying. I think he's finally realizing what a jerk he's been."

Robin deflated, not even trying to hide how exhausted he looked. Artemis could even see the bags under his eyes beneath his mask.

"I wish stuff was simpler, you know?" He mumbled. "I just want to help people. That's what it's supposed to be about, not all this mess."

"I know how you feel," Artemis wrapped an arm around her stomach, thinking about the fight with her mom, how her mom begged Batman and Green Arrow to help her. She felt her cheeks flushing and pulled herself out of her thoughts.

"We're five minutes out." Miss Martian announced, breaking through the quiet chatter.

"Good." Aqualad said, pulling up a map on everyone's screen, centered on a boat and jet ski rental shop. "A rental for a motorboat was just placed, full payment made in cash. Red Arrow, you are on Sportsmaster's tail by water. Miss Martian, stay on the ship and provide overhead surveillance. Maintain a cautious distance, Sportsmaster has proven himself adept at spotting camouflage in motion. Kid Flash, Robin, there is a road following the waterfront. You will pursue by motorbike. Artemis, Superboy and Zatanna, you three are backup. Stay alert and be ready for a confrontation. Understood?"

Everybody nodded.

"Excellent. Miss Martian, link us up."

"I don't think that's a good idea." Miss Martian protested. Everyone turned to look at her in confusion. Except Robin, who Artemis noticed was looking away with a frown.

"Is something the matter?" Aqualad asked in concern.

"There's too many of us." Miss Martian said. "I… I'm not comfortable supporting a mind link for eight people, especially since Red Arrow's mind is unfamiliar. I'm really sorry, I just don't want to risk us losing contact if I can't maintain it."

"It is alright. Does everyone have their comm links?"

Everyone nodded.

"Good. Radio in any updates. If there is a problem, let the rest of us know immediately."

* * *

"He stopped. Hold your positions." Red Arrow announced over the comms. "I'm moving in for a closer look."

From the bioship, Artemis looked down over the river. Her dad, no, Sportsmaster was climbing out of the boat and walking to shore. She pulled back and looked at M'gann.

"I'm going down. Something doesn't feel right."

Miss Martian nodded and immediately, the bioship began to descend.

"We'll come with you." Superboy stood up.

"No." Artemis shook her head. "If he spots any of us, chances are good that he'll try to get away. We need to be able to follow him no matter what."

"Alright." Superboy nodded.

"But if you need help, we're coming." Zatanna said. Artemis smiled gratefully at her teammates before nodding at Miss Martian.

"Aqualad, I'm coming down to help." Artemis radioed in.

"Acknowledged. Be cautious."

Artemis jumped through the newly-formed hole in the bioship's floor and dropped about fifteen feet to the ground, rolling when she touched down. She snuck behind a cluster of trees, peering around to see her dad checking his watch impatiently. Up ahead, she could barely make out the tip of Red Arrow's head from behind a rock. She scanned the waterline, looking for the threat.

Something wasn't right, but she couldn't see anything.

"Hey sis." A voice purred behind her. Artemis whipped around to see her older sister perched in a tree behind her. "Long time no 'reveal who you really are to all your friends.'"

Cheshire jumped at her, swinging her sword in a downward arc. Artemis fired an arrow that Cheshire knocked out of the way. Artemis brought up her bow to match the strike, her arms aching from the force of the hit. Artemis kicked her in the stomach, bringing the bow up and shifting her stance to redirect her sister's weight and throw her to the ground. Cheshire rolled to her feet and let herself slide along the ground instead of fighting the momentum.

"Nice move. Canary teach you that?" Cheshire grinned, raising her sword. Artemis brought up her bow and pulled back an arrow. "Bet you run out of arrows before I run out of sword. Unless you plan to use the pointy ones against your own sister."

"Why shouldn't I? You're working with Sportsmaster!"

"Not by choice!" Cheshire snarled. "Not my call."

"Then whose call is it?!"

"Spoilers, Artemis. You'll just have to find out the hard way." Cheshire raised her sword and charged. Artemis fired two arrows, knowing Cheshire would bat them out of the way. While the assassin swept the second arrow aside, Artemis jabbed a trick arrowhead into the tree behind her and raised her bow like she was going for an overhead strike. Cheshire raised her sword to meet it, but Artemis changed her grip and stuck her hand through the bow like a large, very weapon-y bracelet. She grabbed Cheshire's shoulder and pushed herself into the air, vaulting over the assassin's head. She landed easily and kicked Cheshire in the back, knocking her into the tree as the foam arrowhead exploded, encasing the assassin in a layer of high-density polyurethane.

"You little brat!" Cheshire shrieked, fighting for leverage to free herself. "Do you have any idea what this is going to do to my hair?!"

"Payback for all the gum you stuck in mine." Artemis muttered to herself, moving out of Cheshire's line of sight. "Artemis to Aqualad."

"What's your status?" Aqualad's voice rang in her ear.

"I found Cheshire." Artemis reported. "I handled her, but she's working with Sportsmaster. There might be others, and if they're on comms, he knows we're here."

"Acknowledged. Kid Flash, Zatanna, with Artemis. Everyone else, hold your positions."

"On my way!" Zatanna said.

"Me too." Kid Flash added.

"There's a train incoming." Superboy reported. "One of the doors just opened and—"

"It was a pickup. Sportsmaster just received it." Red Arrow finished over the com. "It's a briefcase, heavy locking mechanisms. I'm follow—"

Artemis couldn't hear his next words when an explosion rang out and Cheshire jumped at her, sword swinging through the air. She barely brought up her bow in time to block the blade, moving on pure instinct and adrenaline. She couldn't see anything beyond the cloud of black smoke.

"Sportsmaster is on the move!" Red Arrow shouted. "I'm in pursuit!"

Cheshire spun, her fist swinging around to connect with the side of Artemis' head. She yelped as her head rang from the force of the hit, but also at the burst of static from her comm link. A foot connected with Artemis' left knee and she went down, the old injury flaring up again. Cheshire's knee dug into her stomach and her sai pressed into her chin. She was pinned and her knee HURT from where Deathstroke had dislocated it.

"You've gotten better. I'm almost impressed."

"Like I care what you think! You're never going to win and you know it."

"Well, well, you've grown teeth. But those are big words from someone desperately trying to play a part she doesn't fit."

"You know what, Jade?" Artemis growled, ignoring the poison-tipped blade digging into her skin. "You're a shitty sister and you always have been. You don't care about anything or anyone, especially not yourself."

"Lashing out?" Cheshire sing-songed, her voice light. "Very mature, Artemis."

"Listen to me or don't. I don't care what you do. You left because you couldn't stand being around dad, and now here you are, letting him call the shots all over again. I feel sorry for you."

"For me?" She forgot to sound amused.

"Wake up, Jade! Dad always wanted you to be like him. You literally abandoned me so that you could get away from him and his shit, and now look at yourself! You're exactly what he wanted."

"You don't know what you're talking about." Cheshire spat, abandoning her usual act. "Dear old dad is not the one calling the shots here."

"Artemis! Keep her talking!" Kid Flash shouted in her ear. "I'm almost there!"

"Yeah, well you're not either." Artemis grinned. Then she processed the words. Keep her talking. How did Kid Flash know she was talking to… Oh. Oh no. No, no, no.

Her comm was on.

When Jade hit her in the head, she must have turned it on somehow.

And if her comm was on the whole time, then her whole team just heard everything. They knew everything. They knew she lied about being Green Arrow's niece, that she'd come on this mission to help track down her own dad, that her big sister was the one pointing a piece of steel at her neck. They were never going to trust her again.

A blur shot out of nowhere and slammed into Cheshire, tackling the assassin to the ground. Cheshire kicked him off, but before she could do more than climb to her feet, a voice rang out, "Dloh reh llits!"

Vines erupted from the ground, wrapping around Cheshire and binding her tightly against a tree. Zatanna emerged from the darkness, her face set in a scowl.

"Are you okay? Did she hurt you?" Kid Flash held out his hand to help her up.

"Did you… please tell me you guys didn't hear that." Artemis hesitated. Zatanna looked guilty but Kid Flash just reached forward and grabbed her hand.

"It doesn't matter who your family is. You're our teammate. We trust you."

He pulled her to her feet and Artemis felt dizzy from the sudden rush of relief.

"Aww, how sweet. Your friends love you." Cheshire cooed. "Wait until they find out all the rest of your dirty little se—"

"Can you shut her up, please?!" Artemis begged Zatanna. The magician smirked and raised a hand.

"Gag reh!" She cried, making Cheshire's taunts faded away.

"Thank you." Artemis said. "For everything."

"That's what friends are for." Kid Flash smiled at her. An explosion rocked through the air, sending up a massive spray of water. The three of them jerked around.

"What happened?!" Artemis demanded.

"Sportsmaster spotted Red Arrow and Aqualad." Robin answered. "I'm still in pursuit."

"Superboy and I are still on the bioship, we have eyes on Sportsmaster too." Miss Martian added.

"What do we do?" Artemis asked.

"Miss Martian, Superboy, Robin, the three of you follow Sportsmaster. We must find out what's in that case. Artemis…" she could hear Aqualad hesitate and she felt her stomach sink. "What you said over your comms, is it true?"

Artemis winced. Her secret was out; now the whole team knew. Kid Flash squeezed her hand and Zatanna nodded at her in solidarity. Without taking her eyes off her sister, she answered. "It's true. We have Cheshire in custody."

"Then she is your call. If she's working with Sportsmaster, they may rendezvous and we will be able to find out what they're planning."

"…okay." Artemis managed.

"Once Cheshire has been handled, the three of you should join us at the bioship's coordinates."

"Got it." Kid Flash said for all three of them. The woods felt eerily quiet once Aqualad signed off. Artemis looked at her sister, then back at her teammates and made up her mind.

"You guys go. I'll meet up with you when I'm done."

"Be careful." Zatanna hugged her suddenly, squeezing tight.

"You too." Artemis squeezed back. Zatanna headed for the motorcycle lying on its side, picking it up and climbing on.

"I'll catch up." Kid Flash told her. Zatanna nodded and revved the engine before speeding off. "Artemis, are you okay?"

"You're seriously worried about me right now?"

"Well, yeah. Your sister just outed you in front of all of us, that's a lot to deal with."

"Don't you care? Aren't you mad?" Artemis asked, heart pounding.

"You can't pick your family." Wally answered. "I don't blame you for wanting it to stay secret. But you can't let them use you, Artemis. You don't have to be what they want you to be. You're incredible and you make a great superhero and I… I'm glad you're on the team."

"I don't want to be like them." Artemis whispered. Kid Flash took her hands, squeezing tightly.

"You're not."

Artemis stepped forward, closing the distance between them. Kid Flash moved with her and the next thing she knew his lips were on hers and they were kissing. She was kissing Kid Flash. She closed her eyes, feeling his hands wrap around her waist and pull her closer while her hand tangled in his hair.

Her heart pounded and she could feel his heart pulsing too. He tasted like electricity, the kiss making her mouth tingle, and when they pulled away, it felt like the world's best energy boost.

"I…" Artemis tried to say, but Wally just grinned.

"I should've done that a long time ago."

Artemis smiled, letting herself feel the joy coursing through her body and lifting her onto her toes like she was floating. Then she took a breath and looked over at Cheshire, where the assassin was still bound to the tree.

"Do you want me to stay?" Kid Flash asked. Artemis shook her head.

"I need to do this."

"Okay." He lowered his goggles, pointing to the abandoned motorcycle next to where Zatanna's had been. "I'll run. Use my bike when you're ready."

With a last look, he disappeared in a flash. Artemis checked that her comm link was off this time, took a breath to steady herself, then walked over to her sister. Jade looked amused and Artemis tightened her grip on her bow.

"I know you don't care about me." Artemis said, stepping forward. "When I was little, I thought you did. We were family, no matter how many times dad made us fight, no matter what kind of stuff you said to me when you were angry. And then mom got arrested and you left me. I used to hope you'd come back and take me with you; we could be together, just us against the world. But you never did, and I'm glad."

Artemis looked down at her bow, the one Ollie had given her about a month after she joined the team. He pretended it was a standard-issue piece of equipment, and Artemis had been too excited to call him out on the gift. After all, he'd even made sure it was her favorite color.

"I had to make my own choices. And this path hasn't been easy, but you know what I found out? That I'm not alone."

She looked Jade in the eyes through the holes in her mask but she couldn't read the expression on her face.

"I feel sorry for you, Jade, I really do. You threw yourself into the life because you didn't believe you deserved anything else. You push people away because you think you have to be alone. And as long as you think that, that's all you're ever going to be."

Artemis slung her bow over her shoulder and reached down for Cheshire's discarded sword.

"I know that if I arrest you, you won't even spend a night behind bars. You can call me weak or stupid or trusting or whatever you want, I know that you're going to do whatever you want to. What I do isn't going to change that."

Artemis walked around to the back of the tree, where the thick tangle of vines had erupted from the ground. She raised the sword, but hesitated.

"Jade, I don't know who you're working for, but… don't go back to dad. You owe yourself that much." Artemis said. The woods were quiet, only disturbed by the sound of the river rushing past. Artemis steeled herself, then she cut through the vines and released her sister.

She half expected Jade to immediately attack her again, or taunt her about her friends or make fun of her for the kiss, but the assassin just quietly retrieved her mask from the ground.

"You're wrong." Jade said quietly, staring down at the grinning face.

"Just go." Artemis turned away, climbing onto the bike Kid Flash left for her. She resisted the urge to look for as long as she could, and when she finally looked, the clearing was empty.

"I'm heading back to you." Artemis reported.

"I just sent you our coordinates," Superboy answered. "Robin just found the location."

"Uh, guys?" Robin said. "Remember how we thought the whole team was overkill? Well… Sportsmaster just went inside the warehouse and it looks like Klarion, the Brain and Ivo are having a tea-party."

* * *

Dick Grayson

* * *

"What, so your plan is to just sacrifice yourself?!" Miss Martian snaps. She and Superboy caught up to me on the roof of the warehouse and demanded to know what my plan was. I haven't talked to her since our… fight, and she seems as angry at me as she was then. I don't blame her.

But still, I've had worse plans. Way worse.

"We can't let them finish whatever freaky light show is going on down there!"

"You can't keep throwing yourself at a problem to protect the rest of us!" She looks furious. "You are not going down there!"

"Okay." I hold up my hands to stop her. "I won't. I'm sorry, M'gann. I really am."

"Then let us help you." She answers.

"We're doing this together." Superboy finally interrupts, watching us with suspicion in his eyes. "They're making some kind of weapon down there. If we interrupt, they'll just try again. We let them finish, and then we steal it so they can't use it."

"How long do you think it will take them to finish it?" Miss Martian asks. Before I can tell her I have no idea, Superboy stiffens.

"Get down!" Superboy practically throws himself over the side of the warehouse. Miss Martian and I follow, ducking for cover. I hear the footsteps climbing up the ladder and my eyes narrow.

"Sportsmaster." I whisper to my teammates.

"There's too many of them for the three of us." Miss Martian says. Red light is still flashing through the windows behind us, and I risk a quick look into the warehouse. Klarion is standing over the briefcase, red light pouring from his fingers. The harsh lighting makes Ivo's mad-scientist grin even creepier.

I duck back down, mind whirling.

"Whatever they're working on, it's inside that case. We're not going to have long, but we'll have an opening as soon as they finish. Remember how we played AMAZO?" I ask Superboy. "As soon as we grab the case, it's a game of keep-away. We have to keep it away from them until the team gets here and we have backup."

"This is a bad idea." Miss Martian shakes her head.

"Maybe, but it's the best we've got." I answer. "Unless you guys have a better plan?"

"Robin's right. The others will be here soon, we have to stop them from leaving with that case."

* * *

"All done." Ivo says, closing the briefcase. That's my cue.

I throw two explosive birdarangs at the far wall. They detonate with a huge boom, causing the villains to look over.

"I'll take that!" I shout from the other side of the room, swinging from my grappling line to swoop in between them and grab the handle of the case.

"NO!" Klarion shrieks, hands glowing red. A bolt of red lighting slices through my grappling line and knocks me out of the air. I twist over, watching Klarion's face twist with rage as the case zooms out of my grip and into Miss Martian's outstretched hand. Another burst of telekinesis pushes open the skylight and she takes off.

"Stop her." The Brain's mechanical voice commands, and Monsieur Mallah leaps at her with a roar. Superboy intercepts him, knocking the eight-hundred-pound gorilla back. I land on the ground and roll, retracting the remains of my grappling gun. One of Ivo's green MONQI's jumps at me and I grab it out of the air, holding a limb in each hand and pulling until the seams give and the robot shatters.

"You brats!" Klarion screeches, the sound ringing violently in my ears. "Give it back! It's mine!"

An explosion rocks the building, followed by a wave of water slamming against the walls.

"Miss Martian is clear with the case. Red Arrow is engaging Sportsmaster. Robin, Superboy, where are you?" Aqualad's voice sounds steady as ever over the comms.

"Inside!" I answer, dodging a wave of magical red spikes. Aqualad doesn't waste anytime blasting through the wall and shooting a massive jet of water at Klarion that blasts him into the wall. I grab a bolo and hurl it at Ivo, binding his arms to his chest. I charge forward, kicking him backwards over the table and onto the ground.

He's out cold. I tie his arms behind his back for good measure and turn back to the fight. Superboy is still taking on the giant gorilla and Klarion blasts energy bolts at Aqualad. Outside, I can hear Sportsmaster and Red Arrow fighting.

A burst of electricity drops me to my knees and I let out a shout. OW, of course the stupid Brain in a tin can has tasers built in.

"Robin!" Superboy shouts, and then the pain dissipates as he hurls the Mallah into the Brain, sending them both flying. Superboy grabs my arm and pulls me up. Aqualad's water bearers swing through the air, a torrent of water pinning Klarion to the wall and drenching him from head to toe. He looks like an angry wet cat, especially with the way his hair droops under its own weight. Next to him, Teekl lets out the miserable howl of an actual wet cat.

"You… you… you BRATS! YOU INSUFFERABLE CHILDREN! THIS ISN'T OVER!" Klarion shouts, stamping his feet and causing a swirling red portal to open under his feet. Together he, Mallah and the Brain disappear.

"Miss Martian, where are you?" Aqualad asks.

"I'm on the bioship and I've got the case. Coming your way now."

"Good." Aqualad sounds relieved. The rest of us look around the half-destroyed warehouse.

"Is it just me, or isn't that guy supposed to be in Belle Rev?" Zatanna asks, gesturing at the tied-up and unconscious Ivo.

"Yeah, he sure is."

* * *

"Excellent work today. I am very proud to call you all my teammates." Aqualad says. He puts a hand on Artemis's shoulder and smiles. She seems amazingly okay considering the fact that her older sister just tricked her into revealing her deepest secret to all of us, but maybe that's because she knows we've got her back.

"I just checked in with Superman. I'll take the chips up to the Watchtower." Red Arrow says, picking up the case. We lock eyes as he walks past and he nods at me. It's not exactly an apology, but I nod back anyway.

"The warden, Hugo Strange, has just been arrested. The state is sending an interim team to manage the prison, and the vetting process has begun to locate a permanent replacement." Aqualad smiles proudly, "Just one of the many victories we accomplished today."

"And once we know what those chips are, we'll be one step ahead of the bad guys." Kid Flash grins.

"It was about time something good happened," Superboy agrees, looking happier and more relaxed than I've seen him in months. Even Miss Martian looks happy as she drags Superboy over to the kitchen to help her pass out snacks.

We did good today. It feels good.

I really missed it.

"Are you alone?" Slade's voice is suddenly in my ear. My heart stops and the peaceful moment shatters. The team is still milling around the living room, hanging out and chatting like we used to do before things started falling apart. Zatanna looks at me curiously when I leave, but I wave at her casually and she waves back. I head for my room, making sure the door is locked behind me.

"This is a private line on a highly encrypted system. What are you doing?!" I spit into the comm.

"I have crucial information for you. Believe me, I would never contact you this way unless it was an emergency."

My stomach churns, but the fury in my chest wins out.

"Whatever you have to say, I don't care! I'm not doing anything for you after last time!"

"I appreciate that you're angry, but this is time sensitive and far too important for you to ignore. You don't need to do anything, just listen."

"Fine. You have one minute."

"I just got out of a meeting with the Light. They've begun the next phase of their plan."

"What?"

"I don't know the details, but they've completed their mind-control technology. It's a Trojan Horse, designed to get beyond the Justice League's defenses where their inside agent can use it to take control of the entire League. I don't know what they look like, but the Light received confirmation that the devices have just been brought to the Watchtower."

Holy shit. The chips.

"Why are you telling me this?!"

"You wanted information that could help your friends and the League. If you don't act now, they will all be put under the Light's complete and total control."

"What do you mean, act now? What am I supposed to do?!"

"Get the devices, make sure you have all of them, and get out of the Watchtower. I will find you and help you dispose of them."

"You want to destroy them?" I ask, stunned.

"The Light intends to destroy the very foundation of society, a society in which I happen to make a living. I have no desire to see Vandal Savage's version of the new world order."

My heart slams against my chest, my blood running cold at the thought of the Justice League under the Light's control.

"Who is it?"

"What?"

"The Light's inside agent, who is it?!"

"I don't know, Richard, but you don't have time to waste. Every second counts."

"Why should I trust you? I don't know if you remember, but the last time I went on a mission for you my dad knocked me off a building when you said he wouldn't even show!"

"This is what the Light has been working towards ever since its conception. Everything they have done has contributed to this project in one way or another. They've been acquiring the technology for the devices and placing their agents in position to strike. If you don't take the devices back, the League WILL fall. You and your teammates will be targeted as well."

"I…"

"You don't have time to ponder this one. If you're going to act, act now. Get the devices and get out of the Watchtower. Whatever you do, do NOT get caught."

* * *

Bruce Wayne

Metropolis Penitentiary

* * *

"See, I told you he'd show," Arthur Brown, a.k.a the Cluemaster, said to his attorney in a voice of smug superiority. The lawyer nodded and held out his hand. For the sake of not riling up the lawyer any more than he already was, Batman shook it.

"My client has been requesting a meeting for two weeks now. Is this complete disregard for others' time characteristic of all "super" heroes or just a personal flaw?" The lawyer asked stiffly. Batman chose to disregard that comment and sat across from them.

"The terms of appeal you sent are completely impractical. No matter what information you believe you can provide, there is no case for a complete termination of your sentence." Batman informed him.

"The information my client possesses is sufficiently pertinent to the Justice League and international security that his requests are not only reasonable, they are the bare minimum of the compensation to which he is entitled."

"Brown is not entitled to any compensation. He has seven years left on his sentence and three judges have already denied his request for an appeal."

"My client was framed." The lawyer shot back. Brown looked at Batman smugly, daring him to challenge the attorney's words. Batman was more than happy to.

"Brown was arrested for fraud, racketeering and aggravated assault. In addition to multiple drug possession charges and child endangerment." Batman answered, voice dipping into a furious growl at the reminder of the dangerously unstable environment Stephanie had grown up in.

"My client was framed." The lawyer repeated. "He has discovered some information that my team and I agree is sufficient evidence to get his sentence overturned and all charges dismissed."

"If you're so certain, then you can take it to court." Batman said, starting to stand up. "The League has no interest in making deals with convicted felons."

"The legal process, as you know, is long and arduous. My client has already suffered an undue burden under the false accusations for which he was charged. In an attempt to see justice done, something which you and your compatriots claim to uphold, with any manner of speed, my client is seeking to exchange this value information for an immediate pardon, a modest financial compensation, and restored custody of his daughter."

"Absolutely not." Batman said.

"My client's demands are absolutely reasonable." The lawyer produced a thick stack of papers from his briefcase and set it down on the table with an overly loud thud. "The following brief outlines the legal basis for my client's demands, including the damage calculations for his wrongful sentencing."

Batman felt his eye start to twitch and reached for the papers. Getting through the legal jargon was an arduous process, but the years he'd studied law at Harvard before dropping out to pursue his training abroad came in handy. With a dawning sense of dread, Batman read the papers and started to understand that this situation wasn't some kind of ploy. Arthur Brown truly believed he had information valuable enough to make his outrageous demands, and what was worse, a team of highly capable, bloodthirsty lawyers agreed with him.

"I'm trying to help you." Brown said impatiently, breaking through the sound of pages being turned.

"Arthur." His lawyer warned. "Your best course of action is to stay quiet."

"Then tell him that." Brown's hands flew out to the sides as far as the handcuffs would let him. The lawyer nodded and turned back to Batman.

"My client has chosen to offer you and the Justice League this information because he believes it to be of tremendous value to your cause. It has the potential to save a very large number of lives."

Batman took a breath, running through his options in his head, but it was obvious he needed to hear him out. Although he had the authority to act on behalf of the Justice League, he wouldn't make any decisions without consulting the other members. Not when it came to Brown.

"If your information is valuable enough, I will discuss the terms of the agreement with the other members of the League."

"A signature will be sufficient to approach a judge."

"I'm not signing anything until I've heard the information."

"My client will not divulge anything until we have a signed agreement."

"Tell him what it's about." Brown said. The lawyer smirked, looking Batman straight in the eyes.

"The identity of Deathstroke the Terminator's apprentice."

Dammit.

Brown was right. That was more than worth the League's attention.

"What proof do you have?"

"Five years' worth." Brown snarled, but he wasn't looking at Batman. He was lost in a vicious memory.

"No further information will be divulged unless you agree to my client's terms." The lawyer said, stopping Brown from saying anything else. Batman looked at the papers again and made a choice.

"Stephanie Brown's custody arrangements are not up for debate. Any changes to the current situation can only be made through a court of law following appropriate legal proceedings. Arthur Brown was declared an unsuitable guardian and stripped of custody due to concerns for the girl's safety."

"NO. He took my kid from me, I'm getting her back!" Brown snarled, and the lawyer held up a hand to stop him.

"If your information is accurate and verifiable, I am willing to negotiate on the other demands." Batman said. Brown's lawyer slid an agreement towards him.

"This document is an agreement that will provide suitable clearance for the district attorney's office to begin reviewing my client's case. If the information my client provides is verified, we will begin negotiations for my client's release and the aforementioned financial compensation package."

"I will not sign anything that puts a child in jeopardy." Batman stood firm, attempting to remain impartial when the fact remained that it was his daughter in question. Brown was an unfit guardian and Stephanie wasn't safe with him. Her safety was the most important thing.

"It's too fucking late for that." Brown snapped. His lawyer shot him a look and after an intense silent conversation, the lawyer turned back.

"We will agree to leave the current custody arrangement as is, provided that a judge reviews the case once the information my client can provide has been thoroughly examined. My client will reduce his demands to the reduction of his sentence and financial compensation as outlined in the brief."

Batman weighed his options carefully, but if Arthur Brown really knew Renegade's identity, he needed to hear it. Renegade was in extreme danger; risks of mercenary work aside, the abuse Deathstroke subjected him to was as horrifying as it was brutal. The encounter at the Iceberg Lounge had all but confirmed it. Even if he wasn't, Deathstroke had proven to be a menace on his own. Having a sidekick just made him that much more dangerous.

"If your information isn't exactly as useful or accurate as you claim, there's no deal."

"Oh it is." Brown answered before Batman signed the agreement. The lawyer cosigned and returned the paper to his briefcase before nodding at his client. "I had the pieces but they didn't all fit. There was too much missing. Then Parasite started running his mouth, he gave me the last clue I needed. Everything he said about his last job, and everything he didn't; bragging about how he met Deathstroke's brat, not a word about how the kid ruined his plans and turned him in to Interpol."

Batman's blood froze.

"What?" He growled.

"That's when I knew. You believe in coincidence? I sure as hell don't. I never used in my life, but the day you show up to bust me, the cops find a kilo of coke scattered around my apartment. Deathstroke set me up, I knew that the whole time, but I couldn't figure out why. Then Cain has a change of heart, and a banker drives himself and his wife off a cliff. Coincidence, sure maybe. But what happens to all the kids? Every one of 'em put into the system, through some act of god they all end up in the same place." Arthur Brown leaned forward. "Now here's the kicker. Wayne isn't a bad guy. That was the very last piece; the poor sonova bitch doesn't know. That's what makes it perfect. Deathstroke picks a brat, finds somewhere to public to stash him so he can't run, and surrounds him with easy targets to keep him in line."

"No." Batman growled, low voice reaching new depths. "That's impossible."

"Not impossible. How many kids in the world flew the trapeze for Haly's Circus?" Brown paused for effect while Batman's world crumbled for the second time, only this time there was no gunshot in a dark alley. Just a horrible truth unfurling as the world crumbled around him. "Wayne's oldest is working for Deathstroke. Little Richard Grayson is Renegade."

No. No. That wasn't possible. It couldn't be.

Batman was out of the room before he realized what he was doing, practically sprinting for the Batmobile while he opened the comm line. He barely even heard Brown and his lawyer shouting after him.

"Robin, come in! Robin! Robin, come in now!"

The line never connected. Batman practically threw himself into the Batmobile and stomped on the gas pedal, heading to the nearest Zeta beam.

"Batman!" The Flash sounded even more frantic than usual. "Where are you?! Something's wrong! The zeta beams are down and something's messing with our comms!"

"All Leaguers respond! The Watchtower is under attack. Robin has the chips and is on the run."

* * *

Dick Grayson

The Watchtower

* * *

Getting onto the Watchtower is as simple as hacking the zeta logs to not announce the activation sequence, deactivating the motion sensors, and waiting until the Leaguer on duty steps away from the computers. (Which only takes a minute, thanks Plastic Man)

I sneak past him and into the hallway, finding the nearest air duct. I've never been to the Watchtower before but I memorized the blueprints about twenty-four hours after finding out this place existed. I pull up the security feed and see Red Arrow exiting a room on the upper floor while Hawkman locks the door behind them. He doesn't have the case with him, so I'm willing to bet that's where the chips are.

Sure enough, the open case is lying on a table with a machine scanning across the chips to analyze them. There's nobody guarding it. I drop down from the ceiling and onto the floor in front of the case. I can hear voices outside, muffled and unhurried, so I have some time but not a lot.

I count the chips hurriedly, and there's only twenty-nine. My head snaps up in alarm. One's missing.

The voices outside sound a lot more ominous. What if the mole has already infected someone?

What if I'm too late?

Then it's even more important to get the rest of the chips out. If the mole infected someone, then there's two Leaguers who are working for the Light. Two Leaguers who will infect everyone else if I can't get rid of the chips. There's no time to waste. I grab the case and shoot my grappling hook at the ceiling vent as the door opens. An arrow whistles through the air and shoots clean through my line, and I dodge the next arrow aimed right at me.

The door closes behind him and that's all I have time to notice before Red Arrow rushes me, firing projectiles and forcing me to retreat.

"Red, stop! It's not what you think!" I hiss, diving behind the console for cover.

An arrow lodges in the wall behind me and starts beeping.

"Shit!"

I dive out of the way, sprinting across the room for cover before the arrow blows, taking a chunk of the room with it. The case is heavily armored and cushioned, so a blow like that won't hurt the chips. But me? That would have killed me.

"Roy, stop! Listen to me!" I raise my hands in the air, keeping the case in front of my body so he can't shoot it out of my hand. A wave of déjà vu hits, followed by nausea. It's just like Hizer. Except instead of Green Arrow trying to talk me down, Red Arrow just notches a very pointy arrow and lets it fly.

I use the case to slam it out of the way and then dive to the side. A second arrow embeds itself in the floor where I was standing the second before. The third arrow narrowly misses my head by the time the realization hits me; Red Arrow is fighting to kill. He's not trying to take me down or stop me, he's trying to do whatever it takes to get the case back.

Slade was right.

The Light has an inside man. It's Red Arrow.

I can't let him get the chips. But if I try to run, I won't make it to the air ducts without getting impaled by an arrow.

Red Arrow pulls back another explosive arrow and I charge him before he can fire. Slamming the case into his head stuns him long enough for me to wrench the bow out of his hand and throw it across the room. He locks eyes with me and the emptiness behind the mask stops me dead. There's nothing on his face, no expression at all.

His arms snap up and slam me to the ground, pinning me on my stomach with my arm pulled in a lock behind my back. Fire burns from my shoulder all the way to my wrist and I can't move or he'll break my arm. Turning my head as far as I can, I see his arm moving, something clenched in his hand.

It's one of the chips.

"No!" I snap my left elbow back as far as I can and somehow, it makes contact. The grip on my right arm loosens enough for me to roll out of the lock. He's on top of me again before I can move and the two of us grapple on the floor. It's like training exercises we used to do a million years ago, except those were fun. This is a fight to the death with someone bigger who doesn't even flinch when I land a blow.

He might be bigger, but I somehow manage to overpower him. I get the upper hand and lunge, pinning him in a lock while pressing on a major pressure point. I only need to hold it for five seconds to knock him out.

"Go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep," I mutter desperately, holding the grip tightly as Red Arrow thrashes. The chip is still clenched in his hand and if I let up for a second, he'll infect me.

It takes half a second for the world to fall apart around me. The door opens and the majority of the League is standing behind it.

"Roy, we heard explosions. What's-"

"Oh god."

"Robin, stop!"

In the distraction, Red Arrow's head snaps back, slamming into my nose. Pain erupts across my face and my head rings. I charge forward, fist raised like I'm going to punch him. Red Arrow moves to block the punch and I change direction, grabbing the chip out of his hand and ducking behind him. I grab the case from where it's lying on the ground, throw the last chip inside, and slam it shut. I pull a handful of smoke pellets out of my belt and throw them, filling the room with smoke while I shoot my grappling gun up to the vent.

I scramble through the air ducts, relying on pure memory to guide me back to the zeta bay. That's my only way out. And even that's sheer desperation.

"Robin, whatever you're doing, it ends now. The Watchtower is in complete lockdown. There is no way off the satellite. Stand down. NOW." Wonder Woman orders over the Watchtower's intercom system. Beads of sweat run down my back. I'm fucked. Oh, I fucked up so bad.

Hacking the motion sensors helped me get in, but it's useless now. Superman has thermal and x-ray vision; he can see exactly where I am in the vents. The only reason he hasn't smashed through them to grab me is that it'll disrupt oxygen flow to the rest of the Watchtower and risk suffocating anyone in the affected area.

I have to get to the zeta beams. The entire system is on lockdown, but I helped write the code for all the League's security. They're not going to believe me that Red Arrow is the mole, not after they thought they saw me trying to kill him. And as long as Red Arrow is on board, leaving the chips on the Watchtower is too dangerous.

And one chip is missing. That means someone is already infected and there's no way to know who. If I hand over myself and the chips, the Light might still win. Then this will all have been for nothing.

"Kid Flash, come in!" I say desperately into the comms. Wally's my only hope right now. "The chips are a trap. It's mind control tech, someone on the League is infected and I don't know who! Roy is the mole!"

No answer. Fuck, what do I do?!

"What's going on?" Slade demands over the comms, and I'm so relieved to have any amount of backup that I don't even care he hacked my comms again. "The whole system is on lockdown, what happened?"

"I'm trapped! You were right, the mole caught me stealing the chips, he tried to kill me. What do I do?!"

"Where are you?"

"I'm in the vents."

"Get to the zeta beams. I'll have Hardison override the controls to allow you to escape. You'll get one chance. I'll meet you on the other side with a car in case you're followed."

My heart is going crazy and my chest heaves, panic setting in while the air ducts close in around me.

"I can't do it!"

"Yes you can. You can do this. The entire League is counting on you, remember what's at stake."

The League is counting on me. If I don't get the chips off the Watchtower, Red Arrow will infect all of them. And my team. They'll all be under the Light's control. I won't let it happen.

"Okay. I can do this."

I make my way to the Monitor Womb, where the zeta-beams are dark and still. If Hardison can't activate them, I'm trapped. Plastic Man is still on Monitor Duty, but now Captain Atom is standing watch with him. Plastic Man by himself, I could definitely handle. If he's having an off day, I could probably take out Captain Atom too. But both of them together? Not a chance.

"One of the Javelins just activated! Robin's hacking the system!" The Flash shouts over the Watchtower's intercom. I hold my breath and hope Slade's favorite hacker knows what he's doing. "We need to keep the hangar closed!"

Plastic Man springs into action as he propels himself forward. Captain Atom grabs him by the ankle.

"Where are you going?" He demands gruffly.

"The hangar." Plastic Man snaps. "You heard Flash, we need to stop that ship from leaving the tower."

"We can't leave the zeta unguarded. It could be a ploy."

"For the love of Mary, look at that thing. The whole system's shut down, nobody's getting out that way."

"We can't leave it undefended."

"Fine, you can stay." Plastic Man tries springing forward again, and Captain Atom stops him again. "What is your problem?!"

"You stay. One blast from me and that Javelin's not going anywhere."

"Fine, go! But if he gets out 'cause you didn't have Plas to save the day, I'm throwing you under the bus to Superman."

"Ugh." Captain Atom rolls his eyes as he storms out. I take a breath, gripping the case even tighter. My back is starting to hurt from being stuck in the vent, but I'm so close. A whirring sound starts up about thirty seconds after Plastic Man starts humming to himself, pacing the room and pretending to box his own shadow. The zeta beam generator starts spinning, a yellow light beginning to glow.

"Huh?" Plastic Man turns, staring at the zeta-beam. "Oh no, no, turn off. You're supposed to be locked down, turn off!"

I drop down from the vent while Plastic Man panics. He hears it when I charge towards the zeta-beam and his eyes bulge out from his head.

"Hey! You, stop! Hey!" One hand goes to his comm and he shouts, "Robin's here! Monitor womb!"

One stretchy hand lunges out, but I'm ready. I launch an explosive Batarang that throws him back in a cloud of smoke. I charge into the zeta-beam just as the main doors open.

"Robin!" The Flash calls.

"Stop!" Superman shouts. The red and blue blurs are the last thing I see before the world disappears in a blaze of light. When it fades, I throw myself out of the phone box and slam the door behind me. If the zeta isn't deactivated in time, they're going to be right behind me.

"Robin! What are you doing?!" Batman roars over the comm link.

"It's not what it looks like!" I shout, sprinting down the street. I have to get to the meeting point without the League catching me. One of the chips is missing. Someone in the League is infected and there's no way to know who. "The chips were a trap! Roy tried to kill me, he was—"

"I think that's enough." Slade voice cuts me off with a click on the comms. I skid to a stop; my feet refuse to move even though the entire Justice League might be about to come barreling through the zeta-port behind me.

"Slade! Let me talk to him!"

"He and the League can track you as long as your comm is active and you're in uniform. You need to destroy the chips before they find you."

A van pulls up, cutting off the alley in front of me. It's a dead end behind me, nothing but a blue phone box. I'm trapped.

"Let me talk to him!"

"You're running out of time." The door to the van slides open, and Slade is waiting inside. "Get in."

I hesitate.

"Or I can deactivate the zeta-beam lock and allow the League to catch you right now and retrieve the chips." Slade raises an eyebrow. "You've just made an enormous sacrifice; do you really want it to go to waste?"

"Screw you." I spit, but I don't have a choice. I climb into the van. The door slams shut behind me and the van takes off. There's a wall separating the front cab from the back of the van so there's no way to see who's driving.

"Give me your comm." Slade says. I only hesitate for a second before I hand it over.

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere safe. You can lie low there."

"Lie low? No, we're destroying the chips and then I'm going back to explain everything."

"Are you now?" Slade laughs. My heart starts pounding.

"Yes. They'll understand."

"I'm sure they would. But you misunderstand me. You're not going back."

"We had a deal."

"We did. And then you broke it."

The world slows to a stop. Time stands still.

Slade telling me about the chips was a drastic choice; if the Light ever finds out he did it, it'll ruin his reputation forever. A risk that big needs an even bigger payout. And what's a bigger payout than getting his apprentice for good?

I just betrayed the entire Justice League. They all saw me do it.

Bruce thinks I betrayed him and it won't take long for him to put the dots together and figure out I've been working for Slade. That I've been working for him for years. I can never go home.

And even though Wally knows the truth, I hurt M'gann so badly that it'll destroy any chance of them getting the team to understand what really happened. The team won't listen to me. Kaldur will never forgive me if he thinks I tried to kill his boyfriend.

My only other option is the circus, but that's the first place Bruce would expect me to run. Besides, Slade would burn Haly's to the ground in a second to get to me.

There aren't any choices left. By stealing the chips, I've dug myself into a hole I can't escape from.

"You can't do this."

Slade laughs in my face.

"Don't be so naïve. You knew this was coming."

"Let me out."

"No."

"Slade, let me out."

"If you so much as twitch towards the door, I will inject you with so much anesthetic you'll be out for a month. And, of course, I'll ensure the Light gets their chips back safe and sound."

"Like you're not going to give them back anyway." I spit with as much venom as I can.

"Oh no, I was quite sincere earlier. I fully intend to help you destroy them… so long as you behave yourself. It's a small price to pay, isn't it Richard? You singlehandedly saved the planet from a mind-controlled Justice League rampage, and all it cost was the facade you've been holding onto."

"You can't do this."

"You should be proud of what you've accomplished. Now sit down and behave yourself. It's a long way to the safe house."

This can't be happening. My fingers tighten around the case that just cost me everything.

"No!" I shout, lunging for the door handle.

Something sharp jabs into my arm and my body goes numb almost immediately. Slade catches me before I slam into the ground, pushing me onto the seat.

"I warned you." He says, voice wobbling in and out of my hearing. "I'll see you in a few days."

* * *

Vandal Savage

Secret Volcano Base

* * *

Vandal Savage stood in front of the zeta-generator, hands clasped behind his back. He was a picture of the victorious regent, the patient conqueror who had finally triumphed over his enemies after long and arduous centuries of slow progress. The day had finally come. Humanity would evolve with him as its new ruler.

The confirmation had come in mere seconds ago. The devices had been brought to into the Justice League's base and the mole was on his way. The mole, carefully selected among the junior heroes, abducted by Ra's al Ghul's most skilled assassins, carefully programmed by the most advanced psychic genetic hybrids, and implanted as one of the League's own. It was just one part of an extraordinarily complex plan that had taken decades to fully unfold, but the day had finally come.

"It won't be long now." Savage announced, triumphantly fanning his fingers out and tapping them together. The old habit was one of a very small number of weaknesses he allowed himself, but what better time to indulge than in this moment of triumph? His partners grinned, exchanging nods with each other like professionals.

Any moment now, the mole would infect the League with the mind-control chips, granting Savage complete and total control. The Light would move forward with their plans and the heroes would be powerless to stop them.

Batman himself would override the zeta-beam controls and transport Vandal Savage directly into the League's most protected sanctum, where he would rule. Any moment now.

Any moment.

Yes, at any time, Savage would see his plans come to fruition.

Any time now.

A true strategist knew the value of patience. Savage was nothing if not patient. He reminded himself of this fact even as he itched to check his watch. Immortals had no use for time. In fact, time was a distraction. In the face of the victory at hand, time was meaningless.

And the victory was at hand.

Any moment now.

"We do have confirmation that Red Arrow made it aboard the Watchtower, yes?" Queen Bee asked haughtily, irritation leaking through her regal demeanor.

"Confirmation was received at 22 hundred hours." The Brain rattled off.

"And the chips are present?" Luthor asked.

"My assassins confirmed that the children retrieved the case, and the League assumed custody of it." Ra's al Ghul frowned.

"So what's taking so long?" Klarion demanded, finally putting into words what they were all thinking.

"Patience is a virtue, my friend." Ra's reminded him. Before anyone else could respond, he added, "But it may not be remiss to check in on… the present situation."

"Agreed." Savage agreed.

The other members of the Light echoed the sentiment, and then there was a pause.

"So… whose mole had the passcode, again?" Klarion asked.

"Allow me," Luthor responded. In a few moments, a video appeared on each of their screens. The Justice League was assembled in the main room, Red Arrow among them, but there was no indication that any of them had been placed under the Light's control. Batman wasn't present, and Superman was speaking furiously to the assembled group.

"Is sound beyond your capabilities?" Queen Bee sniped. Luthor scowled, but the video began to play sound.

"We will find him. Whatever's going on, we're going to get to the bottom of it. Canary is with the team now to keep them at the Cave. They cannot be involved until we figure out what's happening. We'll fan out across every known city with a zeta drop. We're not sure where he ended up or what his plan is, but it is imperative that we find him first. Whether or not he has the chips, finding Robin is the priority. Do not hurt him but do whatever else it takes to bring him in."

Savage stared at the screen in front of him.

"I will rewind the feed." The Brain announced, scanning backwards and flipping through feeds until an image of the case appeared. Savage could only stare in furious confusion as Robin appeared, attacking Red Arrow over the case and fighting off the League members that tried to stop him before fleeing into the zeta-beam. With the case containing all the chips.

They all stared in horror.

"Whose mole was he?!" Luthor demanded.

"Not mine!" Queen Bee snapped. "al Ghul, you claimed the Bat was your purview!"

"Not even I would risk the Bat's wrath with such a thing. I made no efforts to control the boy."

"Then what the fuck just happened?!" Klarion demanded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehehehehe.
> 
> Poor Robin, he was just trying to help. Slade has the amazing ability to ruin just about everyone else's day to get what he wants. And he's been planning this trap for a long time, there was just no way he was going to let it happen on Dick's terms. Dick is about to have an absolutely miserable time and some other people are going to have to make some hard decisions. Get ready for angst, cause some of this stuff is going to hurt.
> 
> :)
> 
> Side note, I made a little mistake with the dates as to when Cluemaster figures everything out, but I have gone back and corrected it so hopefully you didn't notice or just ignored it, but it's fixed now. Thank you to the people who helped me figure that out.
> 
> Please leave me a review if you enjoyed this chapter. I can't wait to hear what you guys think about how the story is progressing, or what you think Slade is planning. It literally makes my day to hear from you guys and now that school is over, I'll have a lot more time to write. I'm hoping to have the next chapter out by next week!
> 
> Okay, that's all. Thank you for reading!


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had one simple goal when I wrote this chapter; inflict as much suffering on these poor characters as possible. Now, I don't know if I achieved my goal but I certainly gave it my best shot. Enjoy.

Bruce Wayne

Saturday January 8th, 2013

* * *

"Robin, come in! Robin! Robin, come in now!"

The line never connected. Batman practically threw himself into the Batmobile and stomped on the gas pedal, heading to the nearest Zeta beam.

"Batman!" The Flash sounded even more frantic than usual. "Where are you?! Something's wrong! The zeta beams are down and something's messing with our comms!"

"All Leaguers respond! The Watchtower is under attack. Robin has the chips and is on the run." Superman's voice came through the Batmobile's speakers, using the special alert that signaled a League Emergency. Batman nearly crashed the car before he engaged the autopilot and plugged in the coordinates for the nearest zeta beam. Then he tried to respond to Superman's alert, but the line refused to connect. He tried the Flash's personal com and this time, the connection was instantaneous.

"Flash! What's going on?" Batman demanded. "What chips?"

"Batman! Robin attacked Red Arrow, he stole the biotech chips the Team recovered in New Orleans and he's loose in the Watchtower! We've got everything on lockdown but something's interfering with our comms. What's he doing?!"

"Keep it on total lockdown until I get there. Find him. Whatever it takes, do not let him off the Watchtower."

Batman attempted to contact Robin again, but it still wouldn't connect.

"Computer. Override system locks and open line to Robin."

"Error. Administrator access required."

Dammit. The Watchtower's system wasn't the only one that had been hacked. Batman opened his own holocomputer, tapping into the system that controlled their communication lines. As he suspected, there was a branch connected to the network that didn't belong. Robin had long since out-paced his hacking skills, but Batman had a few tricks of his own. The invasive branch had attached itself to the network, which allowed it access but also left it vulnerable. Batman sent a worm down the path, something that would jam the hacker's processors and buy him time to remove them from the communication network. It worked exactly as intended, until the Flash shouted, "One of the Javelins just activated! Robin's hacking the system! We need to keep the hangar closed!"

Robin wasn't just hacking the communication system; it was a distraction. He needed a way off the satellite, he must have known the communication networks would take top priority.

It was a distraction. So was the Javelin.

Robin would never make it off the Watchtower by spaceship and he knew it. Batman pulled up the zeta-beam system and swore. The system lockdown had just removed itself.

"Flash! Get to the monitor womb! He's going for the zeta-beam!" Batman shouted.

"Are you sure?"

"Go!"

"On it!"

"Robin's here! Monitor womb!" Plastic Man's frantic shout came through the Watchtower's speakers. Batman felt his heart sink as the zeta-beam activated and the log updated with a new entry; Robin, B-01.

His virus chose that moment to finish it's work and Batman seized his opportunity. This time, the comm call connected.

"Robin, what are you doing?!" Batman roared over the line.

"It's not what it looks like!" Robin panted back at him. He sounded like he was sprinting for his life. "The chips were a trap! Roy tried to kill me, he's—"

The line went dead.

"Robin! Robin!" Batman shouted into his com. "Dick! Answer me!"

The line was dead. Either his virus hadn't worked for long, or the hacker on the other end had been prepared for the attack. Considering that Deathstroke had been known to associate with some dangerously talented hackers, it was probably the latter.

"Dammit!" Batman swore. He was too far away from the zeta-beam.

"Batman! Robin's gone! You were right about the zeta, but he did something to it. It's locked down."

"Get it back online. I don't care what it takes."

He took a deep breath. This could still be a misunderstanding. Cluemaster might still be wrong.

He opened the GPS, waiting for them to pinpoint the exact coordinates of the tracking chips in Robin's suit. He'd taken the zeta beam to Metropolis; to the exact same one Batman was heading towards. If he'd been a few minutes faster, he might have been there in time to intercept Dick.

He stomped on the gas pedal, disengaging the autopilot and pulling out onto the freeway. The Batmobile sped down the road, weaving through cars and probably breaking dozens of traffic laws. Batman didn't care.

The tracking chip was heading north. Batman didn't let up on the gas, thankful that traffic was so light this late at night. He was closing in when the dot that represented Dick veered, getting off the highway and winding its way through the streets. Batman speed across three lanes of traffic and onto the next exit ramp, slowing down just enough to safely merge onto the main road.

The dot had stopped.

"Superman, come in." Batman barked into his com.

"I'm here." Superman answered immediately.

"I need you at these coordinates as soon as you can possibly get there." Batman sent the GPS coordinates as he turned a corner and raced down a street. There were no houses, just rows of office buildings and fences. Batman turned another corner, pulling into the parking lot where the dot had stopped and…

There was nothing.

The run-down parking lot was completely empty. Most of the lights were burned out, and only one lamp was still on. Batman checked the coordinates again, and the chip told him he was standing right next to Robin.

He climbed out of the Batmobile, examining the GPS on his holocomputer. This was the spot. This was exactly the spot. Right under the light…

…where a briefcase rested innocently against the lamppost.

A blast of wind rushed through the air and then Superman was standing next to him.

"There's nobody else here." Superman told him gravely. Batman scowled at the case.

"No. There isn't."

Superman tensed as Batman picked up the case and opened it. There was a piece of paper resting innocently on top of a neatly folded uniform. Robin's uniform.

"Is that…" Superman asked, trailing off when it became clear Batman wasn't going to dignify him with a response. Instead, Batman picked up the note.

'_I don't need this anymore so I figured I should probably give it back. I'm sorry you had to find out this way and I'm sorry I lied to you, but I knew you'd never understand. Thank you for everything and I'm sorry, but I'm not coming back.'_

It was in Dick's handwriting. That meant this wasn't some fluke, Robin hadn't just made a mistake. It meant Cluemaster was right; Dick had betrayed him.

"What does it say?" Superman asked. Batman shoved the note back into the case and latched it shut.

"He made his choice." Batman stood, picking up the case and turning his back on the other hero. "Get the Flash down here, see if there's any security cameras in the area that might have picked something up. I want the rest of the League on patrols. Robin has the chips, and he is to be considered hostile and dangerous. Find him and find the chips, do whatever it takes to bring him in. Call me immediately if you find anything."

"Whatever it takes? Batman, what's going on?"

Batman didn't stay long enough to answer. He was long gone by the time the Kryptonian realized he wasn't still standing next to him.

* * *

The Batcave

Sunday, January 9th, 2013

* * *

Batman considered himself an expert at dealing with situations that would send the average person into immediate cardiac arrest, but he'd never experienced anything like this before. His thoughts raged like a tornado and at the eye of the storm was one impossibility; Dick was Renegade. The idea made him sick. Dick had stolen from the League's top-secret headquarters. He attacked Roy and he might have killed him if the League hadn't followed the sound of explosions and found them in time. There had to be another explanation.

There had to be.

The first thing he did when he arrived back at the Batcave was to engage the emergency protocols. Nobody was allowed into the cave until further notice. He informed Alfred that the League had suffered a bad betrayal and he and Dick would be unavailable until things calmed down. Then he'd sent off an email to Gotham Academy informing them Dick would be absent for the week due to sudden illness. The last thing he needed was the school getting suspicious about his sudden absence.

Once that had been handled, he'd sat down at the Batcomputer, opened the patrol logs, and started searching. He flagged every case Dick had worked on his own, every case where the word Deathstroke or Renegade were mentioned, and especially every note he'd made on Dick's behavior. After that, he'd pulled every video file he had on Deathstroke, and every one he had of Renegade.

It was a disturbingly large number of files.

He dove into the mess, keeping track of everything he thought he needed and making notes of anything that seemed useful. There were three questions he needed to know before he could figure out what to do. Was Dick really Renegade, if so, how long had it been going on, and most importantly, was Dick being blackmailed or was he a traitor?

He tried to keep moving through the files, but he found himself stuck on the video recording from his cowl of the night at the Iceberg Lounge. He watched the footage from beginning to end three times over, trying to pick out Dick's features on Renegade's face.

He couldn't do it.

Renegade didn't look like Dick.

His facial features were sharper, his voice was deeper, he was taller, broader and he'd been beaten and bruised that night at the Iceberg. Dick didn't have any of those injuries.

"Oh it's not luck. I don't leave anything to chance." The Deathstroke on the screen mocked, tilting his head to the side with a hidden smirk. "Nothing."

Deathstroke had set up the meeting. He'd deliberately placed Renegade in Batman's path, ensuring that they would speak to each other. He prepared for the encounter; he'd taken steps to protect Renegade's identity.

Batman rewound the video, looking for a long sound clip that he could use.

"I don't get to choose that. Whatever he says is what I do. He says jump, I jump. He says shoot, I pull the trigger. He rips away my name and calls me Renegade, that's who I am. That's all I am." Renegade said on the video.

Batman retrieved the recording from the comm line and had the computer analyze the frequency of Dick's voice as he said, "It's not what it looks like! The chips were a trap! Roy tried to kill me, he's—"

With that frequency as the basis, he performed a Fourier Transform on Renegade's voice, shifting the phase until the two sound recordings were based around the same wavelength. He played it back and braced himself, but there was nothing that could have prepared him for it.

"He rips away my name and calls me Renegade, that's who I am. That's all I am." Dick said, sounding even more desolate than Renegade had. Batman froze, heart pounding in his chest as the last doubts evaporated like a punch in the stomach. It was true. Dick was Renegade.

The video kept playing, and Batman heard his own voice ask, "What does he have on you?"

"Everything." Dick answered. "Nothing. That's the problem."

Was he being blackmailed? All Renegade's answers had been vague, just truthful enough to win Batman's sympathy, but Deathstroke had clearly masterminded their encounter. There was no way to tell what was true and what wasn't from Renegade—Dick's account.

And that note.

_I'm sorry you had to find out this way and I'm sorry I lied to you, but I knew you'd never understand._

If Deathstroke was blackmailing him, why would he let Dick leave a note behind? Batman had read it a hundred times, looking for any hidden messages or clues. There was nothing.

But that meant it might be a true apology note. And if it was, that meant years of partnership were built on lies, that Dick had been taking advantage of his trust for years. No matter what the truth was, Dick had lied to him. Dick could have been a willing conspirator. If the apology note was real, then that meant Dick betrayed him and he would never know why.

He couldn't accept that. But the treacherous voice of reason in his mind reminded him of just how many other things he'd missed. If Dick was being blackmailed, then he'd needed Bruce's help and he failed. On the rooftop, Renegade had sounded devastated when he realized Batman didn't have a plan to stop Deathstroke. In that moment, he'd been a scared child hoping someone would save him and Batman had failed him. Bruce failed his son, and now everyone was paying the price. But if he searched for his son, only to find him and learn that Dick had truly betrayed him? It would kill him.

He couldn't guess. Not on this. He needed to be sure.

That was the question that haunted Batman's endless hours of searching. Cluemaster's words hung at the front of his mind; "Deathstroke picks a brat, finds somewhere to public to stash him so he can't run, and surrounds him with easy targets to keep him in line."

That couldn't be true. Brown had gotten lucky when Parasite mentioned Haly's Circus. That was the only reason he'd put two and two together about Renegade. Deathstroke couldn't have had anything to do with Dick's adoption. Or Jason's. Or the Drake's car accient, or Cluemaster's arrest or… Lady Shiva having a sudden, inexplicable change of heart.

Bruce's heart stopped. Deathstroke had looked him in the eye and told him he hadn't left anything to chance. But what Bruce was thinking was impossible. It wasn't possible.

Renegade had showed up for the first time in October. Whatever Deathstroke had done to Dick, it couldn't have been happening for much longer than that. Batman would've realized something was wrong. He would've.

Except he had.

Dick's strange behavior, his slipping grades, the physical changes Canary had been worried about. Not to mention the disappearances, and the excuses and the lies. Batman had noticed all of it.

Why hadn't he done anything about it? Why had he let it go?

Selina.

Suddenly, Dick's meltdown in his office made far more sense. He'd tried to warn Bruce that she was working with Deathstroke, which he only knew because he was also working for Deathstroke. He was trying to protect his family, to keep them safe.

Which meant two things; if Selina was involved, this had been going on for a very, very long time. And worse; either Selina or Dick was a traitor.

* * *

Selina Kyle

Friday, January 14th, 2013

* * *

"Three years." Batman said. Selina reached out to touch his shoulder, but Bruce stiffened like a wild animal backed into a corner. "Three and a half years!"

The word came out as a shout, rage bouncing off the walls of the warehouse and forcing her back.

"What are you talking about?"

Batman didn't answer and Selina stepped closer.

"Bruce, you're scaring us. You've been down here for days. The kids are freaking out; they have no idea what's going on and Alfred and I have no idea what to tell them. What's going on? Where's Dick? Why isn't he down here with you?"

Batman's fist slammed out, ramming one of the computer keys with enough force to crack it. Five screens' worth of videos began playing, all scenes depicting Deathstroke's mysterious apprentice. Selina stared, heart pounding as her brain connected the dots.

"No." The word fell out of her mouth. "Bruce, no. No!"

"Three and a half years." Bruce repeated and she finally understood what he was saying, even if her brain refused to process it.

"That's not possible! Bruce, it can't be possible! I met him! Dick is not Renegade! That's not possible!"

"It was the warehouse fire." Bruce said, looking like a man that had crawled his way through hell only to find himself trapped in an endless loop of torment.

"What fire?" Selina asked, but as soon as she asked, she knew the answer. "You thought… you thought someone scared him but he wouldn't tell you anything. But that was years ago!"

"However it happened, that was the night Deathstroke made his move."

"But why… why now? Why is this happening now?"

"He needed a spy."

"Oh my god."

"Dick was the mole. He broke into the Watchtower and stole the devices the Team recovered from the Light. He attacked Red Arrow when he was discovered. Selina, he tried to kill Roy."

"No. He would never do that."

"He did."

"It's not true!" Selina shouted. Tears ran down her face and she realized she was crying. Her hand started to ache and she looked down to see her fingernails had punctured the skin.

"It is and it's my fault!" Bruce shouted back. "This whole time, Wilson has been playing games with me. He stole Robin from me. Everything since that day has been a setup!"

"That can't be true!" Selina protested. Bruce stood, throwing his chair to the side with a crash.

"He murdered the Drakes!" Batman raged, the sound erupting with raw pain and fury. "He put Brown in prison so I would take in Stephanie. He even paid Jason to steal my goddamn tires!" He set everything up! I only have children because Slade fucking Wilson wanted to use them to control Dick and I. DIDN'T. KNOW!"

The scream echoed through the cave, scaring the bats into fleeing from the cave. The cacophony of screeches and flapping wings mixed with the remains of Bruce's pain, drawing the sound out until Selina's skin crawled. Then she saw how Batman was looking at her. Fury, pain and distrust.

"Even you."

"What?"

"You said you would never give it up." Bruce growled and Selina's jaw dropped.

"Bruce, whatever you're thinking, it's not true."

"That night on top of Tiffany's, you said you'd never give it up. Three years later, here we are. The perfect excuse to explain his behavior. Everyone saw Dick falling apart, pulling disappearing acts and disobeying orders, and how perfectly simple the explanation was. Trouble with Dad's new girlfriend, even Dinah believed it."

"Bruce, stop."

"How much did Wilson pay you?!" Bruce roared.

"How dare you?!" Selina snapped, tears pouring down her face. "I am not working for Deathstroke! He had nothing to do with us!"

"Then why did you give it up?!"

"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, YOU JACKASS!" Selina screamed. "Because you made me happy and I realized I didn't have to be the kind of person who stole without ever facing the people I hurt! You made me believe I could be better! And I tried to be better, and it was the hardest thing I've ever done but it was worth it because I love you!"

The cave was silent. Then Batman turned, slamming his fist through the monitor and hunching over the keyboard.

"This is all my fault." Bruce whispered, his shoulders shaking. Selina felt her heart break. Bruce was crying. "Dick is gone. He needed me and I failed him."

* * *

Jason Todd

* * *

"Hey dingbats, stop! Bruce told us not to go down there!"

"Dick is gone!" Stephanie screamed, throwing one of her dolls to the ground hard enough to send plastic shards flying. The crack was louder than it should have been and Jason froze, staring at the wires and metal sticking out of the disemboweled doll.

"What are you talking about? Steph, what's in that doll?"

"Dick is gone and we're only here because Bruce got set up!" She shouted.

"That's not true." Jason protested, more confused than before. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"They killed Tim's mom!"

"What are you talking about?" Jason asked. He saw the look on Tim's face and he felt sick. "Tim, what's going on?"

"Bruce knew and he wasn't going to tell us!" Stephanie raged. "Get out of the way."

"Steph, stop!" Jason shouted, grabbing her by the arm when she tried to push past him. She yanked herself free and turned on him furiously.

"You're not my dad!" Stephanie screamed, tackling him and taking a priceless vase out with him. Jason hit the ground to the sound of shattering glass. Jason tried to defend himself but her fingernails were sharp and she scratched and bit him. He was bleeding by the time he got on top and held her down.

"What on Earth is going on here?!" Alfred thundered like an angry god from the Old Testament. "Jason Peter Todd, release your sister AT ONCE!"

"She started it!" He said, letting go of her and climbing back to his feet.

"Dick's working for a supervillain." Stephanie snapped. Everyone froze.

"What?" Alfred was so stunned he forgot to use manners. That's when it really hit Jason that the world was ending.

"I heard Bruce fighting with Selina. Dick tried to kill Roy and he stole something from the Justice League."

"All of you, downstairs, now."

* * *

"Master Bruce." Jason had never heard Alfred so furious in his life. "Explain yourself. Where is Richard?"

"He's gone." Bruce answered quietly. The words punched Jason in the stomach, taking the air out of his lungs while the shock hit him like slamming headfirst into a brick wall. Jason couldn't move. If he stayed still, maybe that would make the words go away, or if he waited long enough Bruce would smirk and Dick would jump out from behind a stalactite and they'd all laugh while Alfred yelled at them for scaring the rest of them.

"I beg your pardon?!" Alfred demanded instead. The look on his face was angry enough to turn someone into a pillar of salt and not even Bruce could stand it. Bruce looked down, hands curling into fists. The cave was too quiet and Bruce wasn't saying anything and Dick wasn't here but he couldn't be gone. He couldn't be.

"Deathstroke took him."

"Well go find him!" Jason shouted, surprising everyone in the room including himself.

"It's not that simple." Bruce answered. Selina opened her mouth but didn't say anything, and Jason felt fury swell in his chest. Dick warned them not to trust her. He'd promised Dick they wouldn't that day in the library. This was all Selina's fault. It must have been.

"That's stupid!" Stephanie screeched. She took a few heaving breaths before the anger on her face splintered apart. Her face turned red and the rage turned into sobs. "Get him back!"

"We don't know where he is, but even if we can find him, he may not come back."

That was the wrong thing to say. Even Jason could see how freaked out Steph was, and their dad's words pushed her over the edge.

"Shut up!" She screamed. "I hate you! You don't even want us!"

She ran for the elevator sobbing.

"Steph, wait!" Jason called but she slapped his hand away hard enough to leave an angry red welt. Selina held out a hand to stop Alfred from following her.

"I'll go." She said, then disappeared after Stephanie. Jason looked back at Bruce, hoping his dad could fix any of it. He felt sick and his head was spinning like he was stuck in a nightmare. "What do you mean, he won't come back?"

"Deathstroke has been… manipulating him for a long time. Just finding him might not be enough to get through."

"To get through what?" Jason demanded.

"Deathstroke is a master of emotional manipulation." Bruce answered. "I don't know what he's said to Dick over the past few years, but he's had a long time to get inside his head."

"Get inside his head? Like mind control?" Jason asked.

"No. Maybe." Bruce rubbed a hand over his face. He looked tired and lost and seeing his dad—seeing Batman—look so scared stoked the fear building in his chest. Dick couldn't be gone for good. Dick was going to come back. "I don't know, but it's not likely."

"Then if we can find him, everything will be okay! He'll come home!" Jason shouted.

"Jason. It's not that simple."

"Yes it is! It's Dick! He always does the right thing!"

"I know that you care about him a lot, but there are too many things we don't know."

"Like what?!"

"Dick has been stealing information from the League and giving it right to the bad guys. His friends have gotten hurt because of it. And we don't know why he did it. Unless we know that, we don't know if we will be able to bring him home or if he will have to face justice."

"It's Dick!" Jason shouted, horrified at the words coming out of his dad's mouth.

"He's been lying about a lot of things for a very long time." Bruce answered calmly—how could he be calm at a time like this?!

"Like what, sneaking out at night?! I already knew that and you would too if you ever paid attention to us!"

"I've made a lot of mistakes. Deathstroke got his hands on Dick because of them. I will not let him hurt any of you more than he already has."

"He killed my parents." Tim broke through the silence. His voice was hoarse and Jason could barely hear him. Bruce frowned.

"Tim, what are you talking about?"

"I heard you. Steph and I heard everything you told Selina."

"What?!" Jason whirled on his little brother.

"Why did he do it?" Tim asked.

"Knowing won't help." Bruce said tiredly. "It will only make you feel worse."

"Why?"

"Tim, Deathstroke is a very bad man. He has no hesitation killing people to get what he wants."

"Why?! Why did he do it?!" Tim screamed, stomping his feet on the ground as he lost control. Bruce sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"He arranged everything so that I would take you in." Bruce said to Tim. He turned to Jason and ripped his world apart. "He did the same thing to you, Jason."

"He didn't kill my mom!" Jason shouted, more shocked than anything.

"No. He sent you to steal my tires."

"What?!"

"The man who bought tires from you? Mr. Harris? That was one of Deathstroke's aliases. He arranged everything so that you would get caught and I would take you in."

It took a second for him to process it. Then Jason doubled over, vomiting onto the cave floor.

"Why would he do that?" Tim asked like a little robot that only cared about facts and information. Like he didn't care that the man who'd taken their brother had murdered his parents because they were in the way. "Why did he make you adopt us?"

Bruce closed his eyes. Jason wiped his mouth and looked at his dad. He didn't realize that there was anything that could possibly make this worse until his dad spoke again.

"As a distraction." Bruce said quietly.

Jason stumbled back, the entire world crumbling around him. Dick was gone. Tim had gone into robot mode. And Steph was right.

Bruce didn't want them.

* * *

Bruce Wayne

Saturday, January 15th, 2013

The Watchtower

* * *

Batman looked around at the assembled Leaguers. Wonder Woman sat between Superman and the Flash. Black Canary and Green Arrow were next to the Flash, and Aquaman sat to Batman's left. They'd been carefully chosen as the most trustworthy, and the ones who needed to know the most. But it was more than that. They were the ones who knew Dick. That cared about him. The ones who were going to be crushed when they found out what he'd done.

"What I'm about to tell you does not leave this room." Batman said. "Dick has been secretly working for Deathstroke for the last three years."

"What?!"

"There is still a lot that remains unclear, but Robin broke into the Watchtower on Deathstroke's orders. His current whereabouts are unknown. It's unclear how or when it started, but Robin has been working as Deathstroke's apprentice for the last few years."

"Oh my god." Black Canary's hands flew up to her mouth.

"The attack at S.T.A.R. Labs, Dick led them into that?" The Flash demanded, looking furious.

"I don't know." Batman answered. "I don't know how this could have happened. I don't know anything and it's too late to stop him. The only thing we can do is find him and bring him in."

"How could this have happened?" Aquaman demanded. "Are you not the surface world's greatest detective?!"

"Deathstroke planned this for a very long time. He ensured that I would never see enough to become suspicious, and took extreme measures when I began to notice something was wrong." Batman voice was clinical and detached, betraying no hint of the emotional storm raging inside.

"You've all been quiet." The Flash spat with a mix of hostility and suspicion, glaring at the Leaguers across the table who'd stayed silent. Wonder Woman and Black Canary looked at each other while Superman looked down at the table guiltily. Green Arrow looked conflicted and angry, but didn't say anything.

"We noticed Robin was behaving strangely a few months ago." Superman said. "But we never imagined it was anything of this magnitude."

"It was around the time he and Miss Martian went on their rogue mission to Europe." Black Canary added.

"Why weren't these concerns brought up to the League?" The Flash demanded.

"The League had enough to deal with. At the time, we handled the situation quietly and believed it to be resolved." Superman said diplomatically.

"As it turned out, the matter was not resolved. Rather, our attention was shifted to higher priorities. Deathstroke orchestrated a number of distractions. We believed that Dick's strange behavior was caused by his distrust of Selina, and trauma from missions that went wrong."

"I spoke to Dick at length about his behavior. He fought with both Red Arrow and Miss Martian recently, and when confronted, he had an enormous amount on his mind. I knew he wasn't telling me everything but I never thought…" Black Canary trailed off before she took a deep breath. "Robin would do anything for his teammates. I know he would. I don't understand how that could have been an act."

"Batman." Wonder Woman spoke softly, and it took all of Batman's willpower not to think about how much his children meant to the Amazon. It didn't work. "Do you know why he did it?"

Batman closed his eyes.

"No." He admitted.

"Considering that it's Deathstroke, some form of blackmail is almost certain." Wonder Woman pointed out.

"Almost." Green Arrow scowled. "But 'almost' doesn't explain how he could attack Roy like that. Or, how he sucker-punched me in the face and then pretended everything was fine the next time he saw me? Oh, and have we forgotten that he led the rest of his teammates into a trap? That same trap where his new boss shot your nephew?!"

"And if this has indeed been going on beneath our notice for the past three years, Deathstroke must have trusted Dick a great deal to allow him as much freedom as he did." Aquaman pointed out. "As much as it pains me, we must treat his actions as a betrayal."

The Flash's hands balled into fists.

"Then it's simple. We find Dick. If he's being blackmailed, we save him. If not, he faces justice for what he's done."

Nobody argued. Everyone looked on-edge, but given the bomb he'd just dropped on them, Batman didn't particularly blame him.

"The team deserves to know." Superman broke the silence.

"No. It would just hurt them." Black Canary shook her head.

"He was their teammate and friend. They deserve to know the truth."

"Do you have confirmation that he is currently with Deathstroke?"

"No. We are no closer to locating him or the chips." Batman hesitated before admitting, "But it is the most likely scenario."

"Then the team might have to fight him someday." Superman said what they were all thinking.

Batman couldn't bring himself to answer.

"They need to know." Wonder Woman said softly.

"No." Canary snapped. "They don't deserve this! Those kids have been through so much and things were just starting to get better. This will destroy everything they've worked to build and I refuse to do that to them."

"I agree." Aquaman said solemnly. "Discovering that my own brother betrayed me caused me more pain than any attack he unleashed against my kingdom. Had I been thinking rationally, he would have been captured and brought to justice. It was my own grief that allowed him to escape."

"We can't just lie to them." Green Arrow protested. "Dick betrayed them. He betrayed all of us. Bruce, he's been lying to your face every single day since this started."

"The truth is only going to hurt them." Canary countered.

"And if they discover the truth because he attacks them in the field? How much more will it hurt them to find out we hid the truth?"

"We have to tell them." Superman said with finality, ending the discussion once and for all.

* * *

Mount Justice

Sunday, January 16th, 2013

* * *

"The information you are about to hear is the most security, highly classified information you will ever hear. Only the people in this room will ever know this."

The Cave was silent. In the Watchtower, it would've been serene, but in the hollow mountain, the silence echoed. It hung in the space like an intruder.

The League stared at him, proteges standing near their mentors. Artemis held Zatanna's hand tightly. Her face was pale and, in another time, Batman would've made her sit down. But the news was just going to get worse the longer this waited.

"Robin was the mole." Batman said. The silence got louder. "The case he stole from the Watchtower contained all but one of the biotech chips that the Team retrieved from New Orleans, which had been removed for analysis. After attempting to incapacitate Red Arrow, he escaped through the zeta tubes and disabled them. By the time we were able to reboot the system and bring the zeta tubes online, he disappeared. We don't know where he is at this time."

Batman stopped. He physically couldn't bring himself to say the next part. Green Arrow stepped forward, face set in hard lines. When he nodded at Batman, there was no judgement. Just anger that, as much as it pained him, Batman couldn't fault him for. Robin had tried to kill Red Arrow. He would've strangled him if the League hadn't gotten there in time.

"Several months ago, I responded to a break-in at the Hizer Pharmaceutical Labs. The suspect was a costumed individual who I didn't recognize. He escaped, but we gathered enough information to start assembling a profile. He appeared again on a protection detail for scientists working at the deBroglie Institute for Dynamic Engineering. There were no further appearances until Catwoman met him at the Gotham Museum of Art, and we had an identity. In all cases, the suspect was accompanied by his employer, Deathstroke, and he operates under the name Renegade."

The Team froze.

"Don't say what I think you're saying." Artemis breathed. Miss Martian, pale as a ghost, looked at Kid Flash desperately. Kid Flash was frozen in place, horror plastered on his face.

"Extensive steps were taken to conceal Reneagade's identity from facial recognition software, but we were able to confirm it through voice-patten analysis." Green Arrow said. "It's Robin."

"No." Superboy found his voice first. He shook his head disbelievingly. "No! I met Renegade! He helped me!"

"What?" Superman looked shocked.

"When I was covering for you in Metropolis, I stopped a building from falling on him. He helped me! He told me about Cadmus and Match being a trap for the missing genomorphs. And he didn't look or sound anything like Robin!"

"Deathstroke orchestrated several run-ins. He went to great lengths to obscure Renegade's identity." Batman said. "His methods were very effective."

"But it wasn't Robin!" Superboy insisted, throwing his hands out. Zatanna's face was pale as she reached out suddenly, putting a hand on Superboy's arm.

"When we broke into LexCorp, you found files on Renegade that Robin didn't want to open. As soon as you said the word Renegade, he made us leave. He must have known we'd recognize him if we had time to watch the video, especially with him standing right in front of us."

"No! It can't be him! And even if it was, he still helped me! He warned me that going back to Cadmus would be a trap, and without him I never would have found out Luthor was still experimenting on Project Match!" Superboy whirled on Batman. "You said it yourself; the only explanation is that Renegade was trying to help! That means Robin or Renegade or whoever it is didn't betray anyone and he needs our help!"

"Believe me when I say that I hope his intentions were good." Batman's voice was a growl despite his best efforts to reign it in. "But there are too many unknowns and we cannot ignore the fact that he broke onto the Watchtower and attacked several League members."

"He could have been forced to do it!" Kid Flash snapped.

"We don't know why he did any of it." Batman answered. "Due to the severity of the leaked information and the extremes he went to in order to maintain his cover, we have to act under the assumption that his actions were voluntary. Ultimately, the team is being informed as a courtesy. The League will find him and remove him from Deathstroke's influence."

"That is unacceptable. He was our teammate, that makes his betrayal our responsibility." Aqualad crossed his arms over his chest.

"And he's our friend, you're not leaving us out of it!" Artemis protested.

"The person you thought you knew was a cover." Batman said coldly. "You cannot think of him as your friend; he was the mole and his actions endangered not just the League, but the entire world."

"That's bullshit! He would never betray any of us!" Kid Flash shouted.

Aqualad turned on his teammate.

"He led us into a trap; you and Miss Martian almost died because of him! He attempted to kill Red Arrow!"

"You're wrong!" Kid Flash shouted, "Robin is not a traitor! If you think there's any way in hell he would have done any of this if he didn't have to, you're an idiot!"

Aqualad's tattoos began to glow, but he closed his eyes and calmed himself down.

"We cannot afford to be blinded by attachments. He must be treated as if he were any other criminal."

"What's wrong with you, Kaldur?! It's Robin!"

"It would not be the first time I have been betrayed by someone I thought would never hurt me."

Kid Flash looked around at his teammates before turning on the League, fury blazing in his eyes.

"That's it? You're all going to write him off just like that?" The speedster demanded, looking at each of the League members in turn. Batman's eyes narrowed and Kid Flash steeled himself under the full weight of Batman's glare. "You've got it all wrong! Robin isn't a traitor! He was trying to protect us!"

"Protect us?!" Aqualad thundered.

"Kaldur, please." Black Canary urged, holding her hands up in an attempt to keep the peace.

"No, Dinah! Aqualad has every right to be angry!" Green Arrow shouted. "Or have you forgotten that Robin took advantage of you too?!"

The argument grew louder and more heated, but Batman had stopped listening. There was something in Kid Flash's tone that made Batman stop. Wally was Dick's best friend. He knew him better than anyone else; it made sense that he would have the hardest time accepting Robin's betrayal. But there was no desperation or shock, and the look on his face was as far from lost as it could be.

Kid Flash knew exactly what was going on.

"What do you know?" Batman demanded. The cave went silent, everyone turning to look at Kid Flash. The speedster held his ground, glaring right back at them.

"You want to know what I know?" Kid Flash asked. Batman had never heard him sound this serious. "Well how about this?! If anyone in this room is a mole, what I know will get someone killed."

That announcement was met with stunned silence.

"No one here is a mole." Superman finally said.

"Are you willing to stake all of our lives on it?" Kid Flash shot back. "If you're wrong, someone will die. Those are the stakes."

"Tell us what you know, now!" Batman shouted, losing his grip at the idea that the answers could be right in front of him and still out of his reach.

"Do you think I'm kidding?!" Kid Flash shouted back, matching Batman's volume but not even Batman had sounded that furious. "This isn't a game! I've been so scared of messing this up and getting someone killed, and I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do anymore! Maybe I could have done something before all this happened and everything would be fine, or maybe the fact that I didn't is the only reason the rest of us are all still standing here! I don't know! So I'll tell you, but not unless you understand how much is at risk!"

"It is not your job to decide who lives and dies." Wonder Woman said harshly, and Kid Flash flinched. "Tell us what you know. We accept the risks."

"Fine. Robin has been training with Deathstroke since he was eleven. Deathstroke forced him to become Renegade and threatened to kidnap him, hurt his friends and kill his family if he didn't do it. In that order. I found out about it when all the adults disappeared."

"You've known all this time?!"

"How did you find out?"

"He told me. Somewhere between trying to put the worlds back together, he slipped me a note saying that Deathstroke has been blackmailing him for years. If he tried to escape, he'd kill his whole family."

"Your friend, the one you pretended was dealing drugs." The Flash realized with dawning horror. "It was Robin, wasn't it?"

"Yeah." Kid Flash answered hoarsely.

"Jesus Christ, Kid! Why the hell didn't you tell us what was going on?!"

"Because it wasn't safe! I didn't know what to do!"

"He sent you right into a trap and you're defending him?!"

"S.T.A.R. labs wasn't a trap for us!" Kid Flash shouted. "It was a trap for Robin!"

"You got shot!" The Flash shot back.

"Because I set him up!" Kid Flash threw his hands in the air. "I sent the entire League after him in Lisbon; he had no idea you were coming and he still got away! He found out I was behind it and that's how he knew Robin told me! Those fifteen minutes between radio silence and Robin getting strangled?! Deathstroke beat the crap out of him and interrogated him about Lisbon. The only reason Robin didn't go missing then is that he didn't know what I did!"

"Do you have proof?" Batman asked.

"I know why he stole the chips."

"Why?"

"He found out that the chips were mind-control devices and the bad guys wanted us to recover them from New Orleans. The real mole was already in position to infect the entire League, and Robin suspected somebody had already been infected."

"Who did he say the real mole was?"

Kid Flash's eyes swept over Green Arrow, Black Canary and Aqualad for a fraction of a second. For anyone else, the hesitation wouldn't have been longer enough to matter, but for someone with super-speed, it meant Kid Flash was lying when he said, "Robin didn't say."

"Why didn't you say anything before?" Superboy asked angrily. Kid Flash turned around to face the angry, hurt and confused faces of his teammates.

"Guys, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I kept this secret and I'm even more sorry that you had to find out like this, but I didn't know what to do. Robin just wanted to keep you guys safe. I know you're going to be mad at me, and I deserve it, but please don't blame Robin for any of this. He needs our help."

"Very well." Aqualad closed his eyes for a moment to steel himself. "We will find Robin and bring him home. As for you … I am truly sorry, Wally, but you have lost my trust. You knew the danger in protecting such a damaging secret and you bear responsibility for what has happened here. You are not welcome on this team any longer."

The whole room gasped.

"Kaldur…" Artemis breathed in shock.

"You can't do that!" Miss Martian burst out, breaking her silence.

"This is not a time for rash decisions," Aquaman cautioned. Aqualad just looked back at his mentor calmly.

"Has the Team been dissolved or incorporated into the body of the Justice League?"

"No." Batman answered.

"Then I am still the leader of this Team. We have faced enough betrayals and I cannot put the rest of my teammates in danger. I am sorry, and although I understand why you made your choice, I cannot approve when the consequences were so severe. You have lost my trust."

Kid Flash just glared at the Atlantean.

"You want me off the team? Fine. As long as you do whatever it takes to get Robin back."

"Stop!" Miss Martian shouted with enough psychic energy behind it to give Batman a pounding headache. "You can't kick Wally off the team!"

"I understand that you're upset, M'gann. But his secrecy not only put all of our lives at risk, it cost Robin any chance of getting help before things escalated."

Kid Flash flinched.

"You're wrong." Miss Martian said, shaking her head numbly. "Wally's 'secrecy' didn't put us at risk. Deathstroke was targeting us to control Robin and he was constantly under surveillance. We were working on a plan to stop him but we had to be careful."

"We?!"

Nobody on the League was the type to gasp, but they were stunned all the same.

"I've known a lot longer than Wally has." Miss Martian answered seriously. "Things have been falling apart ever since Halloween and Robin was getting desperate. I told him he needed to come clean before things got any worse, but he wouldn't listen. He told me it was too dangerous. He was trying to protect all of us."

"Is that what you and Robin were fighting over?" Black Canary asked, her eyes wide as the pieces clicked into place.

"I told him he had to come clean. He was scared and he had every right to be. He never wanted to hurt anyone, but he didn't have a way out. The things Deathstroke had… threatened to do to him, he was in too deep and he was scared."

"He's not a traitor. He's Deathstroke's victim, and he's been caught in his trap for a long time." Kid Flash said. "If you want me off the team, fine. I understand, but you cannot give up on Robin. He's given up so much to keep us all safe and we have to do whatever it takes to get him back. We have to save him before Deathstroke breaks him for good."

"How?" Artemis demanded. "We don't know where they are! If Deathstroke kidnapped him, they could literally be anywhere on the planet!"

"And if these threats were great enough that Robin would go to all this trouble, what makes you think finding him will be enough?"

"Robin had a plan. After S.T.A.R. Labs, he was going to turn himself over to Deathstroke and try to leave a trail for us to follow." Kid Flash said.

"Deathstroke offered him something else; the chance to spy on the villains he'd encounter. That's why he tipped off Superboy, that's why he knew Catwoman was involved with Deathstroke. But Deathstroke must have been planning this; he'd never let Robin come out on top." Miss Martian added.

"We have a chance to stop him now. If we take away all of Deathstroke's leverage, we can find Robin and end this once and for all. But we have to do it exactly right."

"You said you two were working on a plan." Superman said, looking between the sidekicks.

"It's not perfect yet, but if it works, it will take his family out of the line of fire and take away some of Deathstroke's leverage."

"Tell us." Batman demanded.

"You're not going to like it." Kid Flash warned him.

"Tell us." He repeated, eyes narrowing into slits.

"You and '_Robin'_," he emphasized with finger quotes, "need to stage a televised, very public confrontation with Bruce Wayne about his son's disappearance."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up next: the young heroes deal with the fallout of a betrayal that ripped their team apart. Meanwhile, Dick has what the experts call, "a pretty bad time."
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! If you're enjoying this story, please be sure to leave me a comment and let me know! Your support is so important to me and it motivates me to keep writing and updating frequently.
> 
> Thank you!


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for non-consensual drugging and discussions of trauma over the sudden loss of a family member in this chapter.
> 
> Thank you all for your patience. June is a really bad month for my family, so I try to take time away from the internet for my mental health. There are no dates on the section headers because this part works better if it's unclear about how much time has passed since the events of the last chapter, and also relative to each other section. Especially when it comes to Dick's part of the chapter. (Insert evil laughter here.) 
> 
> Well, that's enough exposition. Enjoy the suffering.

Wally West

The Batcave

* * *

"Your plan makes no sense." Batman scrubbed a hand over his face before leveling a glare at the teenagers in front of him. Wally shifted under its intensity, but Miss Martian didn't budge.

"Dick told you himself; Deathstroke has been ten steps ahead the whole time. We have a lot of catching up to do if we want to stop him!" Megan threw her hands out to the side for emphasis. She looked exhausted and Wally was sure he didn't look much better. The last few days had been hell; it was bad enough that Dick was missing, but the Team still wasn't talking to either of them. Wally had told the few trustworthy Leaguers who would still listen to him everything he could think of, but between all the members of the Justice League, the reserve members and the Team, there wasn't a single sign of either Deathstroke or Robin. The Flash had kept him updated on the search, but it was clear from the permanent scowl on his uncle's face that he was furious with Wally for keeping this whole mess a secret in the first place.

It seemed like the only person who wasn't angry at him was Megan. A few months ago, he'd have been thrilled by that. Now, he just couldn't shake the memory of Artemis turning away from him back at the cave. Dick was gone, and now his girlfr- Artemis wouldn't even look at him, much less respond to any of the texts he'd sent her after agonizing over whether to give her space or beg for forgiveness. He'd settled on casual check-ins that she'd ignored, and he'd been beating himself over the head with it ever since.

The search for Dick had been useless, just like Wally knew it would be. Megan thought she had a chance of finding him if she could somehow get close enough to make psychic contact, but Wally knew it was hopeless even as he'd thrown himself into it. There was a chance they would get lucky, but if the last few months had taught him anything, it was that they had horrible luck.

That brought them back to hour two of trying to convince Batman that their insane plan was the only option to try and fix this mess.

"If we want to stop him, we need to find him." Batman countered venomously.

"The entire League is looking for him already." Wally reminded Batman, forcing himself to think about the plans he and Megan had been working on for weeks instead of the string of failures and dead ends. "They haven't found any leads and Deathstroke knows how we think. We'll probably never find them as long they're hiding. We have to wait for them to make a move. Or if Dick was able to leave a trail, we'll find them that way. But just finding him isn't going to be enough. Deathstroke has been planning for this moment for years. We have to be ready for anything and everything Deathstroke does to keep Dick under his control."

"Then why stage the confrontation? Nobody needs to know Dick is missing."

"You're not planning to report it?" Miss Martian demanded.

"It would have to be done eventually." Batman answered. Wally shook his head so hard his goggles fell onto his face. He pushed them back up with one hand, ignoring the sting as his hair got caught in the straps.

"You have to; the sooner the better. Reporting him as missing will limit their movement and make it harder for them to disappear again if we find anything. It will also limit the public appearances they make together, but if the whole world is looking for them, we might get lucky. We need to make it harder for Deathstroke to control the story and we need to try to do things he hasn't planned for. If you had your way, there wouldn't be anything linking Dick to this. So he probably won't be expecting this."

"He won't expect it because it's a ridiculous and pointless idea."

"No, it's not. We have to break the story while it's still under our control." Wally said.

"The problem is that as long as there's any mystery, Deathstroke can take advantage of it. If we start to get close, then Deathstroke can expose your secret identity and suddenly all the villains in the world will be out for your head. We'll lose the trail and your kids will be in danger again." Miss Martian explained for what felt like the thousandth time. Or maybe that was because they'd been secretly working on these plans for so long he could recite them backwards from memory in his sleep.

"I don't like this." Batman said.

"There's no other way. You can't pretend Dick is on vacation somewhere while you look for him; at some point people are going to start asking questions and it's going to look suspicious that you covered it up. Worse, if Renegade gets arrested, Dick goes down for whatever crimes Deathstroke made him do. And you'll have to prove to a court that he was forced to do it. But if the whole world knows Dick was kidnapped by an evil mercenary, then all you have to do is provide reasonable evidence that he was forced into crime by his captor." Wally said.

Batman's hands curled into fists. The scowl on his face did the impossible and got even angrier.

"Dick Grayson has nothing to do with this. Robin is the one that stole the chips and disappeared."

"He gave the suit back! This has never been about Robin. It's always been between Deathstroke and Dick. And just because Dick disappeared doesn't mean Robin has to."

"If you want to untangle this, the most important thing is protecting your secret identity." Miss Martian said quietly.

Batman slammed his fist down on the console and the bang made them both jump.

"The most important thing is finding my son and making that psychopath pay for everything he's done to him!" Batman roared.

"It's not enough to just find him!" Wally shoutedback. "You found him at the Iceberg, remember? How did that go?"

"I didn't know what was really going on." Batman growled after a long pause. The anger in his voice meant Wally was on thin ice, but the hesitation meant he'd hit a nerve. They were wearing Batman down little by little.

"And you think you do now? Batman, Deathstroke is literally years ahead of you! He's already gotten what he wants and he'll do whatever it takes to keep it. If we want to stop him, we have to neutralize every single one of his advantages. Because as long as anyone he cares about is in danger, as long as he thinks he owes Deathstroke anything, Dick is never coming back. We have to get him to understand that it's safe, and when we do, we better mean it, or we'll lose him for good."

"Besides, as far as we know, Deathstroke still has those mind-control chips and we have no idea how they work or what he's planning to do with them. We need to find a way to defend ourselves against them or we'll be walking into a trap by going after him." Megan said.

"And how does framing Bruce Wayne as an incompetent moron accomplish any of that?!" Bruce thundered. Wally winced, choosing to ignore the incompetent moron part and instead trying to convince him the plan had actual merit.

"First, it absolves you of any involvement. Dick was scared of his siblings being taken away from you and put into the system. He said Jason had a criminal record and he was scared of him going to juvie. Deathstroke will drag your name through the mud to take the heat off himself. We need to make it big and public that you didn't know what was going on and that the kids are safer with you than anywhere else."

"We also need to protect him." Miss Martian said. "This wasn't our plan originally, but Robin stole the chips. Whoever planted them on the Watchtower knows he took them, and they're going to want them back pretty badly. If they find out that Robin went missing at the same time Dick Grayson disappeared, they're going to know who to blame."

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you announced Robin's identity to the whole League." Batman growled.

"Not the whole League. Just the trustworthy ones."

"How could you know that?"

Wally frowned.

"Megan read everyone's mind. Everyone who was present at the cave is honest and trustworthy."

"You did what?!"

"Deathstroke shot me because he found out I knew! There was no way I was risking another leak!"

Batman stopped. Silence hung in the Batcave as the Dark Knight looked at each of them in silent judgement. His gaze finally settled on Wally when he spoke.

"Dick told you who the mole was, didn't he?"

"Yeah." Wally felt his shoulders deflate, both at the admission and at the pain of another one of his closest friends hiding a terrible secret. If Robin was right, this was going to destroy Kaldur. "He thought it was Roy. It makes a lot of sense but I don't have any proof and after everything, there's no way I was going to accuse someone else of being a mole."

"You didn't want to upset Green Arrow."

"Or Kaldur. He took it so hard; I know he and Robin were really close. I didn't want to hurt him any more."

"And you didn't want to tip Roy off either." Batman dug in on the point, and Wally changed directions sharply. Both in terms of the conversation and in his nervous pacing across the cave.

"Look, you need to tell the whole League that you and Robin staged the theft. Make up a story about what happened at the Watchtower being a ploy; the important thing is that nobody besides the people who were in the cave can know that Robin's missing. If you make sure that there's enough evidence that Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson can't be Batman and Robin, no matter what Deathstroke tries to leak, your identities are safe."

"I don't like it."

"I know. But you have to understand, this is how it started."

"The…" Batman hesitated before forcing the word out like it was poisonous. "….apprenticeship?"

"Deathstroke saved his life when Dick was just a kid, and he believed him that it was quid-pro-quo. He would train with Deathstroke, in exchange, Deathstroke would protect his identity. When Dick tried to back out in October, that protection became a threat." Wally reminded him.

"We don't know what Deathstroke will do to keep Dick under his control but we need to take this chance to protect the vulnerabilities we know about. Especially when it comes to your kids. Dick was terrified that Deathstroke would hurt them."

"And we all know that Dick will do anything to keep them safe." Wally said.

Silence hung in the air.

"If we want to stop Deathstroke, we have to cover every single one of our weak spots." Miss Martian said.

"And we're going to find him. But it could take a while. I've made rounds all through Central, I've tried everything I could think of. Nobody has any idea where he is. He hasn't been hired for anything lately. It's like he dropped off the face of the planet. And considering how long he's had to plan this, he could stay hidden for a really long time. We need to be ready to strike when they show up again."

There was a long pause before Batman spoke again.

"Say we do all this. The whole world knows that Dick has been kidnapped by a dangerous unknown, Bruce Wayne didn't know anything about it and it has been decided that he's still a suitable guardian, and protective measures are taken to ensure that anyone who Deathstroke is likely to threaten stays safe. Then what?"

"If we get there, then we put all our energy into finding Dick. We have to make him understand that we thought of everything, that he can come home and it's really over."

"And how do you propose we deal with Deathstroke?"

Wally met his eyes darkly.

"You're Batman. You're the smartest man on the planet and you know Robin better than anyone. If anybody can figure out how to get him away from Deathstroke for good, it's you."

"What about Roy?" Miss Martian gasped suddenly, breaking the silence. "We didn't know Robin thought he was the mole when we made the plans."

"Shit." Wally swore, resuming his pacing as his brain raced to figure out how to get around this hurdle. "Roy knows his identity."

"So long as there is nothing tying Dick to Renegade, it should be manageable." Batman said, and it was clear that gears were beginning to turn in his head. "If the League is told that the incident on the Watchtower was part of my plan to remove the chips, then they'll be focusing their anger at me instead of suspicion towards Robin. It won't take more than a few staged appearances to make them think he's in Gotham with me. Especially with the Team temporarily disbanded so they have no reason to see him in person."

"I've been practicing. I can fill in for him as often as you need." Miss Martian offered. She did a better job hiding her flinch at the mention of the Team than Wally did.

"And if Roy gets suspicious about Dick's public disappearance, you can tell him that Dick is undercover."

"Hopefully, it won't come to that." Batman answered, turning to the Batcomputer and beginning to type furiously. "I'll call off the search for Robin. The two of you should go home. Get some sleep, I'll need you back here tomorrow to go over the revisions to your plan."

"We can stay and help." Wally offered.

"You already have." Batman said, ending the conversation as he lifted the lockdown and activated the cave's zeta beam. Wally and Megan looked at each other, before deciding that Batman looked like he really had it handled. Their job was to convince him to listen, and they were done. There wasn't anything left for them to do now.

"We'll be back whenever you need." Miss Martian said before disappearing into the zeta. That just left Wally alone in the cave with Batman and the sound of his hands flying over the keys.

"I'll run." Wally said. "If that's okay."

Batman grunted, powering down the zeta beam. Wally took that as confirmation. He headed upstairs to Wayne Manor, feeling better and somehow worse than he had in days. At least they had a plan to fix this, and Batman was working to fill in the gaps. But that didn't change the fact that somewhere, Dick was alone and completely at Deathstroke's mercy.

The manor was weirdly empty. He was used to screaming kids and constant interruptions anytime he and Dick tried playing Mario Kart. Instead, the whole place felt empty. Jason was sitting at the kitchen table, head slumped against the wall.

"Hey." Wally said quietly. Jason jumped, rubbing his face with his sleeve before looking over at him.

"Wally?" Jason asked, sitting up suddenly. "Did you guys find something?!"

"No."

Jason deflated, the air going out of his lungs like a punctured balloon.

"We're working on a plan, but it… it could be a while before we find anything." Wally tried to sound comforting. What exactly were you supposed to say to your missing best-friend's younger brother?

Jason didn't say anything, but he also didn't stop Wally from sitting at the table across from him.

"How are you holding up?" Wally asked.

Jason blinked.

"How am I… how am I holding up?" He repeated slowly, disbelieving.

"Uh…" Wally tried to backpedal, realizing that he'd stepped into a verbal beartrap.

"My brother is missing!" Jason roared, slamming his hands onto the table between them. "He's gone!"

"Jason, listen to me. We're going to find him. We're going to bring him home."

"You don't KNOW THAT!" Jason screamed, eyes filling with tears. "Don't lie to me! Don't you dare tell me that everything is going to be okay when it's not! Dick is gone!"

Jason cut himself off, curling in on himself with his arms clenched around his stomach.

"He's gone." He whispered, a single tear dripping down his face and splashing down onto the table. "I just want him back. I…"

Wally hesitated. Jason rubbed the tears off his face and sniffed once.

"It doesn't feel real," Jason said quietly, his voice raw. "Every day I wake up and I feel okay and then it just hits me all over again that he's really gone and I just… there's nothing I can do. And it just hurts so bad but there's nothing that makes it better. He's gone, Wally. He's not coming back.

"And Tim and Stephanie, they don't know how to deal with it. Tim thinks this is just a problem we can fix, and Steph, she's never lost anyone. They can't deal with this. Sooner or later they're going to figure out that they're never going to see him again and…" Jason's voice broke and he sobbed, "And I can't help them. That's all Dick ever wanted was for us to be happy and we can't even do that. He's gone and all I can think about is what he would have wanted if he'd still been here."

Jason slammed his hands on the table again, fury leaking out underneath the tears. "But guess what?! He didn't want to be dead either! He doesn't get a say anymore!"

Wally took a deep breath and puts his hands on Jason's shoulders.

"Jason, look at me. Look at me." He said forcefully.

Green eyes flicked up in a mixture of agony and resentment.

"Dick is not dead. Do you understand me? He's not. He's alive and we're going to find him."

* * *

Selina Kyle

Wayne Manor

* * *

"Stephanie?" Selina knocked softly on the door again. "It's dinner time."

There was no response from the little girl. Selina tried the doorknob but as she suspected, it was locked. Selina sighed heavily, resting her forehead against the doorframe. Stephanie hadn't come out of her room in days. Alfred had left meals outside the door, but they had been largely untouched.

She wouldn't let anyone in. Tim had gotten a few grunts from her, but that had been it. Bruce checked the manor's security cameras obsessively to ensure that she was actually still in her room and every time she disappeared from the frame, he had to be physically held back from breaking down the door. Every day that passed, Selina's heart sunk lower into her chest. He'd only been gone for a few days, but Dick's disappearance was quickly ripping his family apart.

Selina knocked on the door again even though she knew it was probably pointless.

"Stephanie, sweetheart, please come out. You need to eat."

"No!" A muffled voice called. At least she'd gotten a response.

"We'll bring you up something to eat."

She turned away from the door and began moving down the hallway towards the staircase. She grimaced as she passed Dick's closed door but kept moving. A sound came through the door and she stopped. Her hand closed slowly around the doorknob and eased it open. The sound got louder, so she steeled herself and pressed her way into the room.

Dick's room was neat but lived-in. His backpack still sat in front of his desk and his favorite green sweatshirt was strewn over the back of his chair. A pair of black sunglasses rested on top of a pile of textbooks, while his laptop was plugged in on top of the desk. Bruce hadn't gotten a chance to look through his files yet for anything useful on Deathstroke.

Judging by the state of his things, he hadn't been planning to leave. As much as it helped her to know that Dick hadn't meant to betray the League, the idea of him under Wilson's control made her furious in ways she couldn't ever begin to express. She would find Wilson one day and take out his other eye for ever messing with the people she cared about.

Selina turned towards the bed, immediately suspicious when she saw the sheets bunched together in the center. The sound was coming from inside it and she gently stretched out a hand. When it came into contact with the pile of blankets, the pile twitched and curled into a ball, letting out a sob.

"Tim?" Selina asked softly, seeing the short black hair poking through the tangle of blankets. The little boy continued to cry from underneath the mound and Selina's heart shattered. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes but she blinked them away. She sat down on the edge of the bed, gently resting her hand on Tim's back. When he didn't push her away, she started to rub circles soothingly into his back. She stayed like that for a few minutes, not saying anything.

There was really nothing she could say.

How could everything have gotten so messed up? A few months ago, she'd moved in with a man she loved and she'd let herself believe that it was a sign that good things were coming. Really, she had no one but herself to blame for being surprised that her entire life had gone to shit.

Gradually, the little boy's sobs began to subside and after a little while, she broke the silence.

"Tim, honey, it's dinnertime. We need to go eat."

To her shock, Tim suddenly threw his arms around her and shouted, "No! Don't leave me!"

He broke into tears again, harder than before.

"Everybody leaves me!" He wailed, tearing pouring down his face. Lines of mucus dripped from his nose and his eyes were bloodshot. Selina wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tightly.

"Oh, Timmy," she murmured sadly, "I'm not leaving you. I promise."

"It's my fault!" He cried, his face pressed into Selina's shirt. "It's my fault he's gone! He should be here instead of me!"

Selina put her hands on his shoulders firmly.

"No, Tim. Listen to me. None of this was your fault in any way. And we're going to find him and bring him home."

"But I…I want Dick back now!"

Selina held on to him as he cried. There was nothing else she could do.

* * *

Selina entered the Batcave to find Alfred sitting in front of the computer, resolutely focused on the video footage in front of him. As she got closer, Selina watched cars go speeding down I-94 in Metropolis.

"Cassie is sleeping in Tim's room tonight. Stephanie let me tuck her in, but she still hasn't said anything," Selina reported. Alfred nodded sharply, not moving his eyes off the screen.

"I fear that is simply a matter of time. There's nothing much we can do but wait," the elder man said sadly.

"Have you found anything?" Selina leaned on the back of his chair, trying to pick out any suspicious cars from the ones that zoomed past.

"I was able to identify the van that Master Dick entered upon his arrival through the zeta-beam." Alfred said. "Thus far, I have tracked it several miles along the interstate. It appears the van exited the freeway near the location where Robin's uniform was recovered. I cannot confirm whether or not Wilson changed vehicles, but I may be able to if I can track the van to its final destination."

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I'm afraid not. But I appreciate the offer."

"Is Bruce back yet?"

Alfred nodded.

"The Batmobile returned a short while ago. I believe you'll find Master Bruce in the infirmary."

"Thank you." Selina squeezed Alfred's shoulder affectionately, then headed for the lower levels of the cave. Sure enough, Bruce was applying disinfectant to the cuts on his knuckles, his cowl pulled off and hanging at his back.

"How is it out there?"

"No worse than normal." Bruce grunted. "Falcone is getting bolder; his men are moving in on Freeze's territory while he's in Arkham. I need to keep them in check or it could be a turf war when he gets out."

"Great. Just what you need." Selina remarked sarcastically, picking up a roll of bandages and moving closer to help Bruce wrap his hands. The cuts and bruises looked a lot worse than a normal patrol; but then again, nothing about this situation was normal.

"Alfred told me Kid Flash and Miss Martian were back today." Selina used a piece of athletic tape to pin the bandage to the back of Bruce's hand and began wrapping his knuckles. The mention of Dick's friends felt bitter in her mouth.

"They've been persistent." Bruce answered. Something in his voice made her stop and turn to stare at him in disbelief. Bruce had told her everything that happened in the cave that day, how the two sidekicks had come forward to reveal not only that they'd known Dick was being blackmailed by their enemy, but that they'd come up with a truly ridiculous, outlandish, nonsensical plan to fix everything. Bruce had been outraged and beyond irriated when he'd originally told her their plan; now, his tone said that they had his full support.

"You're seriously considering their plan?" Selina demanded. "Weren't you the one who said it was a ridiculous risk to connect Bruce Wayne's name to Robin's disappearance?"

"I've had a few days to think about it, and I am able to admit that they have a more logical sense of perspective than I do. Wilson has been planning to steal Dick from me for a long time and his plans account for anything that Dick or I might try to do. Allowing outside influences to dictate our plans is a much better idea than anything I've tried to come up with."

"How can you trust them with something this important?!" Selina seethed, gesturing with the roll of bandages. "They knew that Dick was being blackmailed for months and didn't say a word to anyone!"

"Because Dick trusted them." Batman graveled in a low voice. "It has taken me too long to see the whole picture, but I understand how Wilson trapped Dick in his web. As long as there is a single thing that Wilson can use to control him, we will never be able to get Dick away from him."

"You're sure this is the story you want to go with?" Selina frowned, arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"I am willing to do whatever it takes to get him back."

"But saying Wilson was his tutor?"

"It's the best option. Kid Flash and Miss Martian were thorough; neutralizing Wilson's leverage is the most important thing we can do. We are running out of time before we have to report Dick's disappearance. If we try to hide it, it could be disastrous if the press ever uncover Renegade's identity. And this story is as close to the truth as we can get."

"So let me get this straight: the world thinks Dick was kidnapped by his math tutor and you hope that nobody puts two and two together that he disappeared the same week Robin betrayed the League and disappeared?"

"No. Robin isn't going anywhere." Batman said, casually ignoring the impossibility of what he was saying. Selina blinked, then realized she was just staring at him.

"Bruce, what are you saying?"

"Wilson threatened to expose our secret identities as incentive for Dick to follow their agreement. We need to prove that they can't be the same people."

"They can't both disappear." Selina realized with dread pooling in her stomach. "Oh, Bruce, you can't! You know how much Robin means to him. Just imagine how badly Wilson could hurt him with the idea that you replaced him."

"There isn't a better way." Bruce said. "Believe me, I have tried to come up with any other way, but there isn't one. We can't find Dick or Wilson. The League has searched the entire globe, I have personally gone through every single known location, base, and contact Wilson has and not a single person knew anything. The last anyone heard of Deathstroke was at the Iceberg for his meeting with you. They're too well hidden, and as much as I despise it, we have to assume we won't find them until they make a move. We may only get one chance to end it. So we need to do everything we can to make sure we do not waste that chance."

"You're not looking for him anymore?"

"Of course I am. Selina, I'm doing everything I can to find him, but Wilson has been a step ahead for a long time."

"Okay. So we're being pragmatic, trying to cover all our bases. We pretend Robin was acting on your intel, and that he was right to suspect the chips were a setup. Meanwhile, Dick Grayson goes missing and Batman and Robin are seen by a lot of people interrogating Bruce Wayne about the disappearance. And while all of that is happening, we just hope that nobody notices Robin has been replaced?"

"Miss Martian will be impersonating Robin for the time being. Her disguise is impeccable."

"And what about the League? They've been looking for Robin for a week now, do you really expect them not to be suspicious at him suddenly turning up?"

"Robin will not be leaving Gotham. The League will be told that we're occupied for the foreseeable future. and that the last week has been part of a delicate covert operation."

"Alright. What about the chips? Do you know where they are?"

"Presumably, Deathstroke has them. I don't know what he's done with them. As far as we know, they're still a threat. The League will be told that my plan successfully got the chips off the Watchtower, but the Light's agents managed to ambush us and re-steal the case."

"It's flimsy."

"I'm aware."

"This is ridiculous! That League has a dozen magic-users, why can't any of them find him? Hell, why can't Superman find him? There's not much Spitcurl can't do."

"They're trying. The result has been one dead end after another. Like I said, Deathstroke has been planning this for a long time and he knows the League's capabilities as well as I do."

"How did everything get so messed up?" Selina muttered.

"Things have been messed up for a long time." Bruce answered. "The only difference is that now we know what's going on."

Selina nodded bitterly.

"While you're playing catch-up… it's my turn. Wilson might have been planning for everything you'd do, but there's something important he forgot." Selina flexed her hands, inspecting the still-perfect finish of her purple manicure. It had been too long since she last sharpened her claws.

"What?" Bruce asked warily.

"That you never, ever mess with a Gotham Rogue."

* * *

Dick Grayson

* * *

I've been drugged enough times that being in that weird half-dream, half-fuzzy flashes of awakeness is familiar. I know the eye-patch that leans over me, poking me and shining light in my eyes.

"I wan go home." I mutter, trying to pull myself away. My arms won't move. Pulling on them hurts. Slade laughs.

"I'm sure you do."

* * *

The room is bright. Every time I see it, it's the same. Slade is always there, always poking and poking in between the dreams. Batman is mad at me. He hates me. He tells me I'm not a bat anymore, but he won't listen to me when I tell him I'm not a bat. I'm a bird. I'm a Robin.

Batman stays mad. He doesn't even smile when it starts raining and all the streets flood and we can go skating on the ice. Or maybe he won't smile because it's a dream. Something's wrong with my dreams. I want to wake up.

I can't.

* * *

When I think I'm awake, it's all fuzzy and druggy. It happens so much. Slade pokes me and makes sure my heart is breathing and my breathing is beating and then stabs me with the drugs again and then Batman still won't go roller skating.

He's good at it. Doesn't he know it'll be fun? Why won't he listen to me?

He wasn't listening to me.

Now it's too late.

That's why he hates me. Not because it's a dream and my dreams are going wrong and everything is just dreams and more fuzziness in between. Batman hates me. I want to go home.

I want to wake up.

* * *

I hate this dream.

The walls are white and it smells like chemicals and my body feels fuzzy and I can't move. The beeping won't stop, and it gets angrier when I get more scared. I like when it slows, then I can drift back into the clouds filling my brain. I think that's the drugs. They make me sleep. Slade keeps poking me with sleep drugs.

Hey, that's a thought. I did it.

Maybe the fog is losing.

I hate this part. Once the drugs start to fade, I can fight them. But it's so much work and my head hurts. I can't let go of the thoughts. This is the most I've been able to think in… I don't know how long.

The white walls aren't a dream. I'm in some kind of med bay. There's a tube in my throat and breathing tubes in my nose and my wrists are cuffed to the bed.

My head pounds. The fog wins.

* * *

Time passes. At least I think it does.

I'm in a battle against my eyelids, using everything I have to keep them open.

Gravity wins.

* * *

Slade comes in.

"You're awake." He says. His voice sounds like gravel against my ears, and his footsteps echo on the floor like a horse walking on a floor horses aren't supposed to walk on.

"Lemmgo." I murmur around the tube in my mouth.

"I suppose awake is a relative term." He says, putting a tray down next to the bed and picking up something shiny. "I have good news for you. We're moving tonight. Your friends gave up on you and called off the search."

"Mfrinds comg."

"Your friends think you're a traitor. They hate you. They're not coming, Richard."

"Ywro… rong."

Slade pokes me with the drugs again and the fog hits hard.

"Sweet dreams."

* * *

I wake up to the world's worst headache. Also, my face is smushed. Everything hurts when I roll onto my back and my eyes decide to open.

I'm in… a living room. There's a coffee table and a pile of magazines and a vase with daffodils.

Where the hell I am?

I sit up and my head pounds like someone's whacking it with a mallet. I rub my eyes to try and get rid of the headache and when I see my hand, I do a double-take. My wrist is red and raw, and a flash of a white room comes back to me. I was tied down. Slade was drugging me.

I whip around, almost falling off the couch when I see the view behind me. Giant windows stretch from the floor to the fifteen-foot ceilings. I stand up, staring at the Empire State building and the New York City skyline around it.

Why am I in New York? What's going on?

I finally look down at myself to see the plain workout clothes and my stomach clenches. That's not right. I was Robin. I was wearing my uniform when Slade… the van. The chips.

The League thinks I'm a traitor!

Once the floodgates open, everything starts coming back to me. I got a message through to Wally, I talked to Batman, I tried to tell them it was a trap. And when I got off the Watchtower, all I wanted was to destroy the chips and then go back and tell them everything. And Slade didn't let me.

A wave of nausea rolls over me and I press my hand over my mouth to stop myself from vomiting. Not because I care about throwing up on Slade's carpet, but because my head already hurts like hell and throwing up would just make it worse. Slade said he'd give the chips back to the Light if I tried anything and then I practically threw myself at the door. He knocked me out, kept me drugged for god knows how long, and now there's no way to know what happened to the chips.

I don't know where Slade is, but I do know I need to find a way out of here. This place might look like a regular apartment, but there's no way it's going to be that easy. The living room opens into a kitchen, and there's a door and a hallway to the right. Before I can try the door, it opens. I jump when Slade walks in, wearing plainclothes instead of his usual armor with a black briefcase in his hand.

"Good. You're up."

I square my shoulders and glare at him.

"Let me go."

"You know, I had a feeling you'd say that." Slade snorts. He walks over to the kitchen and sets the briefcase down on the counter before pulling a glass out of a cabinet and filling it with water from the sink. I look over at the door and calculate how many seconds I'd have to charge through it.

"I wouldn't recommend that." Slade warns without looking over at me.

"Why not?"

Slade turns off the tap and put the glass down. Even in a casual t-shirt and pants, he looks every bit as dangerous as when he's wearing his armor.

"First of all, it's locked. Second, you're dehydrated enough to pass out before you make it to the stairs, even if you could get through it. Third, because as poor of a decision-maker as you can be at times, you're not stupid." He slides the glass of water over the counter separating us. "Here."

"No thanks." Instead of taking it, I cross my arms over my chest and keep glaring at him. The pounding headache makes the scowl more pronounced. Slade shrugs at me, unconcerned.

"Suit yourself."

"Where are we?"

Slade raises an eyebrow and points an uninterested finger at the window behind me. I don't turn around.

"That could be a screen." I tell him.

"If you think I would go to that much trouble to stage an apartment in New York, what makes you think I would tell you the truth about where we were?" Slade points out in the voice that makes me feel like a complete moron, and it pisses me off. Then his voice turns mocking. "But since I'm sure you're scared waking up in an unfamiliar place, I can assure you that it isn't a screen."

"Why are we in New York?"

"I debated between various bases and safehouses, but I thought you'd be more comfortable somewhere with windows over an underground bunker. After all, you're going to be here for a long time."

"You can't do this." My heart pounds in my chest.

"Please." Slade sounds amused.

"My friends are going to find me." I spit. "They're never going to stop until they do. And I don't care what you made him think, you're an idiot if you think Batman isn't going to come for me."

"It's not what I made him think." Slade grins. "It's what you told him."

"What are you talking about?"

"Batman found your suit. He's a paranoid man, it's not healthy. Any sane person would be appalled by the number of trackers in it, but we're well past that. He found your suit about half an hour after you left the Watchtower. And the note you left him."

"What note?"

"Here. I had a few copies made."

Slade pulls out a piece of paper and sets it down on the counter. My hands are shaking when I pick it up.

'_I don't need this anymore so I figured I should probably give it back. I'm sorry you had to find out this way and I'm sorry I lied to you, but I knew you'd never understand. Thank you for everything and I'm sorry, but I'm not coming back.'_

"I didn't write this." I mumble in shock, staring at my handwriting.

"You think I don't know dozens of forgers? Batman thinks you betrayed him. You told him so."

"It doesn't matter. He's still going to look for me."

"Oh he did. Led the charge at first, but even the World's Greatest Detective won't chase a cold trail forever. The search is over."

"How long was I out?" I demand.

"Two months." Slade answers. My stomach drops through the floor.

"Two months?!" I shout. "Are you serious?!"

"No. But that's all I'm going to tell you."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because whether you like it or not, you are my apprentice."

"You lied to me!" I spit, hands curling into fists.

"Does that really surprise you?" Slade asks. He sits on a stool, leaning his back against the counter as he laces his fingers together.

"We made a deal."

"If you want to quote deals at me, you should think back to our initial arrangement. The one that, if memory serves, you broke."

"You said we were partners! I work for you, and you leave me and my family alone! I held up my end of the deal! You can't do this!"

"You should have been clearer in your demands, Richard. In addition to providing you incredibly valuable information to pass along to your friends, I agreed to leave your family out of our business. Ironic, as I'm the reason your little ragtag bunch was assembled in the first place. However, your safe harbor under Wayne expired the minute you went back on our original deal."

Fuck. I'm so stupid. I should have stuck to my plan. At least then Batman would know I didn't betray him, he'd have some idea about how to find me. Before the hopelessness can take over, the anger steps in. Slade might have me backed into a corner but I'm not going down without a fight.

"Yeah? Well I clearly remember you agreeing to my terms that we were equals. You don't own me and you never will."

"Oh, Richard." Slade's voice is full of pity. "You can't possibly be that naïve."

"Fuck you."

Slade snorts.

"Would you like to know why I offered you a new deal?"

"I don't care."

"It's because you're idealistic. Noble. Trusting. There was one thing I truly meant that day. You did surprise me when you tried to sacrifice yourself. Do you have any idea how many of my plans you ruined?"

Hearing him admit that I ruined his plans is the first good thing that's happened since I woke up.

"You deserve it." I sneer.

"You were getting desperate. It was only a matter of time before you or your little speeder friend got chatty. Sacrificing a few pieces of information here and there was more than worth keeping you busy while I made new arrangements."

"Wait, that part was real?!"

"Yes. Take whatever comfort you'd like from the fact that you successfully ruined decades worth of the Light's plans."

My eyes narrow. And then they relax when that makes my headache a trillion times worse.

"Where are the chips?"

Slade nods his head at the briefcase on the counter.

"Take a look." He says. My hands shake as I reach for the latches and pull the case open. Inside a plexiglass box, looking as weird and deceptively harmless as ever, are the chips.

"Consider it incentive." Slade says. "You're clever, and I know I've taught you to be crafty. However, if you attempt to leave this building, I will deliver these chips right back into the Light's hands. And I assure you, they'll be delighted to have them back."

I freeze, glaring at Slade while my head spins. There has to be a way out of this. The League knows about the chips now, there must be something they can do to protect against them. I can't let Slade win this easily; he's not keeping me here.

I'm done working for him.

"You already used that threat, remember? If you were going to give them back, you'd have done it by now. 'Two months' should have been more than enough time, right?"

Slade smirks at me and my stomach sinks. He set a trap and I walked right into it. Again.

"Count them."

I do. There are twenty-eight. There were twenty-nine when I got off the Watchtower. I look up Slade with wide eyes. The smirk on his face makes an icy chill run down my spine.

"You gave them one."

"The Light has two chips in play." Slade says, and every word makes my stomach turn. "That's enough to cause a fair bit of trouble. Imagine how much damage they could do with a few more."

"What, so any time I do something you don't like, you throw them another one?" I try to make my voice sound angry, but I feel too sick for that and it's getting harder to fight against the terror building in my chest with every word Slade says.

"Oh, I don't expect you to behave yourself." Slade leans forward and I step back without meaning to. "I believe the next few years will be very challenging for the both of us. But I do expect you to understand the stakes. If you try to escape, the Light gets all of their chips back. Do you understand?"

My mouth is dry and my stomach is doing backflips, but I nod stiffly.

"Good. Then these are yours."

He closes the case and passes it to me, and all I can do is stare.

"What?"

"I figure it serves as a perfectly good reminder of the stakes at hand. Besides, you always did like having something to protect."

My grip on the case tightens.

"No. I'm done. I'm not working for you anymore." I glare up at Slade, bracing myself for the fist or a punch or kick or verbal assault that tears the world down around me for the hundredth time. Instead, Slade shrugs.

"That's fine. You don't have to and I won't force you."

"Then let me leave."

"I'm afraid not."

"Other than being an asshole, why not?"

"Because if you're not here as my student, then you are more than welcome to consider yourself my prisoner. Under those circumstances, you should be very grateful for the amenities I am allowing you."

"Amenities?!" I demand.

"Look around, Richard. You could at least show a little gratitude for your current accommodations. You know very well that it could be much worse."

"I hate you."

"I would be more surprised if you didn't. Are you going to try something foolish?"

"Like what?"

"Do you expect me to give you ideas?"

"Honestly, at this point, I'll settle for annoying the shit out of you."

"Very mature of you."

"Let me go, Slade. We had a deal."

"We did, and then we changed it. The current iteration of the deal says that I will not harm your loved ones, and in exchange, you will accept your role as my apprentice. Nowhere does it specify your right to return home."

"You're so full of shit!" I shout. "Don't pretend this is happening for any other reason than the fact that you're a psychopath with control issues!"

"Are you going to fight me?" Slade asks, sounding bored. I can see the tiny bit of tension in his shoulders that means he's ready for a fight. He expects me to lash out. Suddenly, it hits me that for all of his planning and tactics and evilness, he can't stand not being in control. That's what this is.

I can't help myself. I smile.

"Are you really that sore of a loser?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I beat you." I say, and my smile stretches even wider across my face out of delight. "I really beat you. You never thought I'd turn myself over… you've been scrambling to catch up ever since then. You hate the idea that you can't control me and all this is just you throwing a tantrum over it."

Slade snorts.

"Your attempts to bait me are adorable, I'll give you that. You don't give up, do you?"

"I don't hear you denying it."

"Allow me to disavow that notion. Keeping you here is simple logistics. You're hidden somewhere none of your friends will be able to find you. That means there's no rush. You stay locked away here until you come to your senses and agree to obey me. Meanwhile, I can continue my operations unobstructed."

"And when I break out?"

Slade laughs.

"I believe we've already established what will happen if you do. I'm sure there's only so much damaged a mind-controlled Justice League can do. And in case I forgot to mention, even if you do manage any sort of a disappearing act, I will find you. I don't think you'll particularly enjoy what will happen to you once I do."

"You're not going to hurt me, or else you would've done it already." I stick my chin out at him, trying to hold on to that brief moment where I was in control of the situation. Knowing why he's really doing this only helps so much when he's bigger, stronger, faster, and trying to make me suffer.

"There's a difference between discipline and punishment." Slade sounds amused. "You've behaved very well over these past few weeks. Despite what you might think, our relocation is a matter of practicality. Your attachment to your friends was becoming unmanageable. Here, there are no more distractions. Nothing to get in the way. You have the time you need to understand the fact that your only loyalty is to me. Here, you have the discipline you need."

The discipline I need? I do not want to know what he means by that. My heart starts pounding and my mouth goes dry as I take a step back.

"You're insane." I say. In the blink of an eye, Slade stands up and closes the distance between us, one hand closing around my neck in the same spot as when he attacked me in S.T.A.R. Labs.

"Of course, if your behavior warrants punishment, you'll have plenty of that too."

My heart starts pounding and I can't stop myself. The two things I know about New York City apartments jump into my head at the same time; they're full of people, and they have notoriously thin walls. That means someone will probably hear if I do this.

"HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME! CALL THE POLICE!" I scream.

The hand around my neck shoves me into the wall while his other hand presses over my mouth to cut off the sound. My head bangs against the wall and my vision goes fuzzy. The throbbing headache I woke up with comes roaring back and the room starts to spin.

"I wouldn't recommend that," Slade says. The hand covering my mouth moves away as reaches for his waistband, revealing the concealed gun at his hip. "I'd hate for any of our new neighbors to have an accident."

"Don't hurt them!" I rasp, wincing against the pain.

"If you're concerned about collateral damage, then I'd advise against drawing any unwanted attention. Do you understand?"

"Fine!"

"What was that?" Slade growls dangerously.

"Yes! I understand!"

I let out a strangled sound as the grip on my neck tightens and Slade leans in. My hands reach up to claw at his hand before the dark spots in my vision take over.

"I shouldn't have to remind you that I expect you to address me with respect when you speak to me. Do you understand me, Richard?"

"Yes! Yes sir!" I force out, the words being mangled by the lack of oxygen. Slade releases his grip and steps away. I stumble as the headache throbs again and I have to hold onto the wall to stop myself from falling over.

"You need some time to recover from the drugs in your system, as well as the shock of the adjustment phase. Tomorrow, I'll explain the ground rules and expectations. For now, there's food in the fridge, I've left you a few books and magazines to keep you occupied, and your room is the last door at the end of the hall. I'll see you then."

Slade strides to the door, and I hear a loud beep before a heavy electronic lock opens. Halfway through the door, Slade turns back.

"I will only say this once; if you ever attempt to escape, I will personally wipe your pathetic family of the face of this planet."

I squeeze my eyes shut and brace myself against the wall.

"Sleep well."

The door locks behind him with the ominous click of a very heavy deadbolt.

* * *

The new room Slade so graciously gave me has a hardwood floor and an actual window that looks out over other apartment buildings. It's definitely a step-up from the all-gray underground bunker, but there's no way in hell I'll ever admit it.

The rest of the room is pretty empty; there's a dresser under the window and basically nothing else. There's a tiny bathroom in the back, just a toilet, a sink and a mirror. The back wall has a built-in closet, but when I open it, it's totally empty. I lean back against the headboard of the bed, staring at the white ceiling.

Slade was lying about keeping me unconscious for two months. I know he was. He had to be. But there's no way to know how long I was really out.

What happened with the League? Did they find a way to neutralize the chips? Did they ever find out that Roy tried to steal the chips first? Does the League know what I've done?

Does Batman?

Did he really give up on the search?

Why didn't I tell him the truth sooner?! He would've been angry, probably furious. But at least he would have found out from me and not from Slade's manipulations. That fake note must have killed him; he thinks I betrayed him. He's never going to forgive me for any of this.

Will he even look for me? He knows I've been working for Slade, it's only a matter of time before he finds out what else I've done. He'll know I'm not worth saving.

My heart throbs painfully and I dig my fingers into the white sheets.

I just want to go home. I want this to be another drug-induced dream that I can just wake up from. But it will never happen.

I'm Slade's prisoner now. I refuse to call myself his apprentice; I'm done working for him and there's nothing in he can do to me to change that. But there's no way out. He said the next few years would be challenging. This can't go on that long, right? For a second, I imagine myself at eighteen, still wearing Slade's colors and obeying his every word. The thought makes something inside me shrivel up and die.

I won't let that happen. I'm going to find a way out; I refuse to be Slade's puppet for the rest of my life.

I glance at the window. The bright blue sky is cruel and mocking, inviting me to enjoy the beautiful day as if I wasn't locked up in here. I stand, walking slowly over to the window. There's no latch for the window. I guess Slade doesn't want me getting any fresh air.

The light brown building across the street is within range of a grappling hook, but even if I had one, there aren't any ledges or sharp corners in the brickwork for the hook to latch onto. There's no fire escape outside the window either, just nine stories' worth of apartments. I stare down at the pavement where cars and people scuttle around like ants. If I ever get desperate enough, I can break the window and jump out.

A nine-story fall to my death. Memories flash before my eyes, and all I can see is the way my mother's outstretched arms grabbed at empty air, the way my parents' eyes widened in terror, the way that trapeze lines stretched taut before whipping through space. If they could see me now, what would they think? Would they hate me too? Would my mom ever be able to look at me with pride instead of disgust at what her little robin had become?

Robin. My mom called me Robin and I used that name to make the world a better place. But now? Robin is gone.

I push myself away from the window and collapse onto the bed, letting tears drip down my face.

This is real.

I turn over, finally tearing myself away from the window to stare at the door.

This is my life now.

This can't be real.

I just want to go home, but it's not like I have much of a home to go back to.

Slade gave the Robin uniform back. He left Bruce a note that as good as shouted, "I betrayed you, I can't believe how stupid you were for ever trusting me." I broke onto the Watchtower! They all think I tried to kill the League. Those stupid chips ruined everything! I never should have trusted Slade. How stupid am I for actually believing him? I knew I should have stuck to my plan, I knew I couldn't trust him and I still fell for his trap. If I hadn't been so stupid, none of this would have happened.

Well, Batman would at least know the truth. I'd still be locked up in an underground bunker somewhere. Or maybe I'd be locked in this exact room. The only difference is that I would know Batman was coming for me. That Wally was coming for me.

I'm such an idiot. I'm a horrible person. How could I have treated my friends like that? They were just trying to help me; they were the only ones trying to help me and I threatened them and lied to them. They can't help me though. I did what I had to do to keep them safe. And as long as I don't try to escape, Slade won't give any more of the chips to the Light. For now, the League and my friends are safe.

They're safe.

Slade doesn't have a reason to hurt them ever again. He has what he wants, so he'll leave them alone. If they think I betrayed them, they won't try to rescue me. They'll really be safe.

That's all that matters.

No matter what Slade does to me, I can handle it if it keeps everyone safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Dick. Poor everyone, really.
> 
> After the last chapter, I got a bunch of messages from people who said they didn't get M'gann and Wally's plan at all, and I hope this cleared up some of it for you. Slade knew the League would be intensely hunting for Dick, what better way to ensure they wouldn't find him than to keep him unconscious until the search died out? If the League wants to stop Slade and really get Dick away from him, they're going to have to be creative and do some things Slade would never expect.
> 
> Thank you again for your patience and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Up next, the world finds out that fourteen-year-old son of a billionaire has been kidnapped, and it turns out Batman isn't the only one who's suspicious about it. For what it's worth, Dick isn't enjoying himself very much either.
> 
> If you're enjoying this story, be sure to leave me a comment and let me know! It always makes my day to hear from you and hear what you think!


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In terms of update schedule, we have no update schedule. I write it, and post it as soon as it's done. I will not apologize. 
> 
> Thank you so, so, so much to everyone who commented on the last chapter, it was a crazy week at the lab and if I did not respond to you, please know that you are the reason I walked around with a giant smile on my face all day. Seriously, your comments mean the world to me!

Iris West-Allen

Central City News Broadcast Media

Monday, January 24th, 2013

* * *

The Central City news logo flashed across the screen before spinning away to reveal the anchors sitting at the news desk. The lead cameraman waved his hand to cue their start.

"Thank you for joining us this morning. My name is Iris West-Allen." Iris began.

"And I'm Eric Martinez." Her cohost said. Iris took a deep breath and began her report.

"Unfortunately, our first story today is not a happy one. The Gotham City police department has just announced that Richard Grayson, the fourteen-year-old adopted son of billionaire philanthropist Bruce Wayne, has been abducted."

A school photo of a fourteen-year-old with perfectly neat hair, bright blue eyes, and a wide smile appeared on the screens behind the anchors. Iris' eyes flicked over to the screen and she faltered, her frown deepening. Eric glanced at her before making eyes with the director when it became clear Iris wasn't going to keep reading her cues. The director made a "roll with it!" gesture and Eric continued the story.

"Sources from within the GCPD say that Grayson's absence initially went unnoticed as he was supposedly attending a private tutoring session last Friday; his father became concerned when he had not returned that night and none of his friends had heard from him. The GCPD was called in to investigate, and upon discovering that both Grayson and his tutor were missing, suspected that he had been kidnapped and advised Wayne to wait for a ransom note. After several days with no contact from either Grayson or any potential kidnappers, the GCPD has declared him a missing person and a national manhunt for both Grayson and his tutor has begun. Bruce Wayne has not yet released a statement, although our sources confirm he has been in constant communication with the GCPD. Due to the high-profile nature of his father, the FBI has also opened an investigation."

"I… I'm sorry, this isn't professional but I need to say this." Iris interrupted him, her eyes red as she wiped a tear away. "I know that Bruce Wayne can be a controversial figure, but I have interviewed him a number of times and I have to say, he is a very kind and generous man. Neither he nor his family deserve to go through this."

Eric put a hand on her arm comfortingly and turned back to the camera.

"All of us here at Central City News wish the Wayne family strength in this terrible time. We will continue to keep you at home updated on the situation, and hopefully Richard will be home soon. To move things to a bit of a lighter note, we're going to turn it over to Serfine with the sports update. Serfine?"

On the other side of the studio, the sportscaster nodded and began her rundown. With the cameras and microphones off, Eric turned to Iris.

"Why don't I get you some coffee?" He offered.

"No, it's alright. I'm sorry." Iris wiped her eyes, trying not to smudge her makeup. "I'm so embarrassed, I shouldn't have done that."

"I don't know if Carson will be happy about it, but I'm glad you said something." Eric told her.

"Iris?"

Eric squeezed her shoulder.

"Speak of the devil," he muttered and slunk away to the coffee machine as their boss approached.

"Layla, I'm sorry." Iris had the apology ready. "I know it wasn't professional but-"

"Calm down. I just want to make sure you're alright. Breaking down on camera is not like you, but I know some stories can hit hard. And this is a particularly bad one."

"Yeah." Iris exhaled heavily in agreement.

"Do you need me to call in James to finish the broadcast?" Layla offered.

"No. No, it's okay. I'll be fine. I just got caught up."

"Whatever you need." Layla said, and for all that her boss could be a demanding perfectionist, she had a psychic sense for what the crew needed to hear.

"Here." Eric came back with a fresh cup of coffee for her.

"Thank you." Iris took the mug and wrapped her hands around it. Layla seemed to think she was fine, because she nodded and turned to leave.

"He's friends with my nephew." Iris admitted suddenly. Eric and their boss looked at her in shock. "They… went to summer camp together. They were inseparable and he's just absolutely devastated."

"Oh, shit." Layla's hand flew up to her mouth.

"Jesus Christ." Eric said at the same time.

"I just wish there was something I could do." Iris said, tightening her grip on the cup. "He's such a sweet kid and he has the biggest heart. I wish I could tell Wally it was going to be okay and that he'll come home but… I can't. The world doesn't work like that, does it?"

Neither of her colleagues responded. Iris frowned down into her coffee, watching the liquid swirl around.

"You know… something just seems so wrong about it. He might not seem like the cautious type, but Bruce is always so careful when it comes to the kids. I mean, he had background checks done on all the camp counselors. The police are saying it was the math tutor, but if got past Bruce's screening checks and didn't want a ransom… there has to be something going else on there. This can't be a normal kidnapping."

"When you say it like that." Eric agreed. "Why kidnap the son of one of the richest men on the planet if not for money?"

"Will this story be too close to you?" Layla asked after a moment.

"Doesn't matter. I'm going to find answers." Iris answered, grip tightening around the mug.

"Alright. Then I want you taking the lead on Grayson from now on. Let me know about everything and anything you find."

* * *

Artemis Crock

Gotham Academy

* * *

When Artemis walked into calculus, Mr. Torcado was standing at the front of the room looking… well she didn't exactly know the word for it, but it was bad. Honestly, he looked the way Artemis felt. She filed into the room behind Bette, taking her seat and trying to ignore the empty desk next to Barbara. Just because Dick had been out "sick" for the last week didn't make it any easier to ignore the empty space where he should have been.

"Please take your seats and wait quietly for everyone to get here." Their usually-hyper teacher sounded so serious that nobody made a sound. "I have some very bad news and it'll be easier if I only have to go through it once."

Artemis' stomach turned. She had a bad feeling about whatever was coming next.

It was exactly eight twenty-eight when Maya Lewis walked in and took the second to last empty desk. Mr. Torcado sighed and shut the door.

"Before I say this, I want you all to know that there is going to be an assembly today to inform the whole school at once. However, as his classmates, the administration felt it was important that you be told first. Dick is missing."

There was dead silence. Bette's jaw dropped while Nick and everyone else in the class turned to look at Dick's empty seat. Babs started crying in shock and Artemis grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly.

Mr. Torcado took a deep breath.

"The police have not released most of the details, but what I was told is that he was abducted last Friday while he was out of the city."

"They'll find him, right?" Someone at the back of the room asked.

"Unfortunately, all we can do is hope that's the case. If any of you would like to go call your parents, please do so. The guidance counselors have also made themselves available specifically for this purpose. For the rest of you, I don't particularly feel like teaching right now, so I'm going to put on some music and we can all take the period off."

Barbara stood up suddenly and practically charged for the door, tears streaming down her face. Artemis was out of her seat before anyone else could react, and she followed the younger girl all the way into the bathroom.

"Babs!" Artemis called. She found her leaning over a sink, fingers pressed into the sides of the porcelain.

"He's not dead." Barbara's voice was steady. "Artemis, I know you know, tell me that he's not dead!"

"Barbara, I don't… I don't know anything more than you."

"Cut the act! I know, okay?!"

"What are you talking about?" Artemis asked worriedly, trying to hide how worried she was that Barbara clearly knew something she shouldn't.

"He told me! Just like I know that- wait comfort me. Now!" Barbara hissed, and before Artemis knew what was happened, the younger girl threw herself at her and began to sob.

Artemis blinked. Barbara had been fine two seconds ago, and now she was wailing, face buried in Artemis' jacket. She brought her hand up awkwardly, not knowing what to do.

Her confusion vanished when another freshman walked into the bathroom. The girl blinked, locked eyes with Artemis, and then immediately turned around and walked out. As soon as she was gone, Barbara pulled back and stopped crying completely.

Artemis stared at her.

"How did you know she was coming?"

"You're not the only one with secrets." Barbara shot back, sniffing loudly and wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her uniform jacket. "Look, I'm just going to rip off the Band-Aid. I know he's Robin, I know you're the Arrow Girl from Star City, I know you guys are all on a team with the other kid heroes, and I know that Bruce wouldn't have waited a week to tell the world if Robin hadn't been involved somehow. So tell me what's really going on. Is he alive?"

"He's alive." Artemis answered, reeling from the sudden shock. Babs knew?! "How do you know about any of that?!"

"He's my best friend, Artemis. Plus my dad's the commissioner. It wasn't hard to figure out." Barbara took a deep breath and a tiny bit of the tension in her shoulders dropped. "What happened to him? Was he really kidnapped?"

"It's complicated." Artemis said, before deciding that Babs deserved to know the truth. "But basically, the League had a mole. Nobody knew who it was. We had this mission in New Orleans and almost as soon as we got back, Robin broke into the League's headquarters and stole the experimental tech we recovered. He hacked the zeta network, met up with an accomplice, and they both escaped. At least that's what we thought. It turns out he was being blackmailed by a mercenary named Deathstroke. He'd been forced to work as his apprentice for years."

"Deathstroke?" Barbara stared, her eyes going wide.

"Yeah, right? Stupid name."

"Black and orange mask?" Barbara sounded like she was going to be sick.

"Uh, yeah. How do you know that?"

"I… I think I saw him. And Dick. Both of them."

"What?! Where?!"

"Not recently!" Barbara corrected frantically. "It was two-on-one against Batman, I thought I could help."

"Where did you see him? How?"

"It was… on a roof. I sort of… went out."

"What do you mean, you went out?"

Barbara leaned in and hissed, "As Batgirl."

Artemis pulled back.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"What? I told you, I'm tougher than I look, and I know Gotham as well as anyone. So what's the plan? I can help!"

"I don't know, Babs."

"He's my best friend, Artemis! I'm not going to just sit here and do nothing!"

"No, I mean, I don't know what the plan is." Artemis answered in frustration. "I know that there is one, but everything is being kept under super tight wraps. There's been so many moles and betrayals, I mean, we all thought Ro… that he turned on us before Batman figured it out."

"Dick would never betray you guys."

"I know. He was being blackmailed for a really long time. I don't know a lot about the plan, but they have to make sure nobody can connect him back to…" Artemis leaned in and whispered, "Robin."

Barbara frowned, looking at the ground. Artemis took a breath, tugging at her ponytail while she tried to think of something helpful to say.

"No wonder he was having such a bad time this year." Babs said, hugging her arms around herself. Despite the serious mood, Artemis snorted. That had to be the understatement of the century.

* * *

Cindy Fung

Gotham Academy

* * *

The hallways were more crowded than usual. Cindy pushed her way through, trying to get to bio on time so Dr. Phillips wouldn't mark her late. She'd already been late to homeroom once that semester, her mom was going to kill her if she got a second tardy. As she made her way to the third floor, she kept overhearing the same conversation over and over from every group of students she passed. Something along the lines of "it's crazy!"

Cindy might have been able to hear more if she tried to pay attention, but she was running late and if it was anything important, Maggie would fill her in later. Maggie knew everything. It wasn't until she saw everyone standing outside the bio room that she started to think something weird was going on. The door was closed, which meant Dr. Phillips was late. He was never late.

"Cindy! Did you hear?!" Alex pulled her over to the group standing closest to the door. Cindy took a quick head count and saw almost all the freshmen in class, even that weird guy Steven who kept track of everyone's middle names. Cindy felt bad thinking of him that way, he was actually really nice.

"Hear what?" She shook her head to refocus.

"There's supposed to be an assembly today."

"Oh, yeah, we just got an email about it this morning." Cindy said.

"Do you know what it's about?" Brandon asked. Alex shook her head.

"They told all the teachers this morning, and apparently Torcado told his calc class this morning."

"What did they say?"

"I don't know. I know a few people in it, but Hannah isn't texting me back and someone saw Babs crying in the bathroom earlier."

"Holy shit." Cindy blinked. "What do you think it is?"

"Oh my god!" Kiera shrieked, holding up her phone. Everyone's eyes snapped to her.

"What?!" Six people asked at the same time.

"My brother just texted me. Dick was kidnapped."

Cindy froze. Her stomach plummeted through the floor and her heart decided to stop beating. She looked around at the people standing in the hallway, hoping that she'd just missed him earlier and this was a really, really stupid prank.

"Oh my god."

"Did he say how it happened?"

"The police think it was his math tutor but no one knows."

"Is there going to be a ransom?"

"Is he okay?"

"I don't know!" Kiera snapped, her face turning red. "That's all he said!"

The door to the bio room opened before anyone else could say something. Cindy looked at her classmates, then back at the door. Slowly, they all trickled inside.

Cindy felt nauseous. Dick had been kidnapped. He could be hurt or worse. She knew his dad was one of the richest people on the planet, but even though she knew plenty of super-wealthy trust fund brats at the Academy, she'd never thought of Dick as one of them. He was too nice, and really sarcastic but also goofy when he wasn't falling asleep in class. He'd also been the only lab partner she'd ever had who always did his half of the work on time.

He couldn't be gone.

She sat down in her usual seat and tried as hard as she could not to look at the empty seat next to it where Dick was supposed to sit. She pulled her folder out of her backpack and opened it, reaching for the lab report that was due. Another piece of paper fell out with the report.

At the top, it said, "Is Dick sleeping in class again?"

She furiously ripped the paper apart, tears falling down her face.

* * *

Kara Danver

GBS News

Wednesday, February 2nd, 2013

* * *

"Hi, you've reached Cat Grant's office."

"Hey Cat, it's Layla over at CCN. Do you still have that exclusive with Wayne this week? One of my people found something crazy on the Grayson disappearance and you're going to want to hear it."

"Um, give me one second, Ms. Carson, this is Cat's assistant. I'll get her on the line." The woman said before her voice became muffled. "Ms. Grant? It's Layla Carson from CCN, she has something on the Grayson case."

"Thank you, Kara." Cat Grant took over the call. Her assistant pointed at the phone on her desk and made a questioning thumbs-up, asking if she could listen in. Cat nodded and shooed her away. "Alright, Carson, what do you have for me?"

Kara returned to her own desk and picked up the receiver silently, placing it over her ear so she could listen to the conversation.

"The math-tutor story wasn't sitting right with one of my journalists." Layla said. "She did a background check on the guy and everything looked okay until she started calling around. None of his previous employers had any record of him, his banks didn't know the guy had accounts with them, even his high school said he didn't exist."

"So, who is he really?" Cat laced her fingers together and sat forward, intrigued.

"I have no idea how the hell she managed it, but Iris found a match for his picture on Interpol's most wanted. The guy's a professional hitman, wanted in about two dozen countries for murder and mayhem. Not to mention, he's the guy that blew up the cathedral in Lisbon back in November."

"What?!" Cat shouted, loud enough for Kara to wince. "Kara, get Wayne on the phone, yesterday!"

* * *

Artemis Crock

Friday, February 4th, 2013

Nguyen Apartment

* * *

"Your friend is here." Her mom said as Artemis walked in the door. Artemis dropped her backpack on the ground and turned with a suspicious eyebrow raised.

"What... friend?" Artemis asked slowly.

"The boy with the red hair." Paula answered casually.

"You let him in?!" Artemis yelped.

"Of course I did, he came to check on you. Why would I turn away someone who clearly is just trying to look out for you?"

"You don't know what he did!"

"Well I might if you ever bothered to tell me things."

"Mom!" Artemis snapped. "I already told you, I can't tell you what's going on and—"

She cut herself off, realizing that she was a gigantic hypocrite for being mad at Wally for keeping secrets when she was doing the exact same thing.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."

"I know you're worried about your other friend. But he is worried about you and I know that you'll feel better once you talk to him. You've never been the kind to suffer in silence."

"Like Jade?" Artemis raised an eyebrow. Her mom shrugged, wheeling herself closer before patting her daughter on the arm.

"I wasn't going to name any names. Now go talk to your friend."

* * *

"I know you're mad at me." Wally said after a few minutes of awkward, silent staring. Artemis frowned, wrapping her arms around her stomach uncomfortably. "I get it."

"No, it's not that." Artemis interrupted. She sighed sharply, looking at the wall of her bedroom instead of at him. "I feel like such a hypocrite."

"What? Why?"

"Because I'm mad at you!" She shouted. "And I have no right to be! I lied to you guys the entire time I was on the team about who I was and who my family was, and when the truth came out, you guys understood."

Artemis pointed an accusing finger in Wally's face. "You were supportive! Even though I lied to you and you had every right to be mad, you weren't! And then I find out that the most dangerous mercenary in the world has been blackmailing Robin for years and you knew?! I'm so angry at you, Wally. You knew the whole time and you never said anything, and now Robin is gone and the Team is a mess if it even exists at all anymore, and I'm so mad at you I can barely look at you. I shouldn't be angry! I get why you did it, I really do. If it was me, I probably would have done the exact same thing. And I'm still so... hurt that you and M'gann and Robin kept this from us when we could have helped save him."

Artemis rubbed her face, wiping the angry wetness from her eyes before anyone could accuse her of crying.

"I have no right to be angry at you. But I am and I don't want to be. I want everything to go back to normal, I want Robin to be back, and I don't want to be mad at you anymore."

"Artemis." Wally said gently. "You can't control what you feel. If you're angry, it's because you have a good reason to be."

They sat in silence. Artemis stared at the Cheshire Cat poster hanging above Jade's bed. Wally looked out the window at the lights coming from the apartment buildings across the street. Finally, he blew out a puff of frustrated air.

"I feel this whole thing is my fault. Robin risked everything to try and get help, and I blew it. Lisbon was a disaster. Deathstroke never would have attacked us at S.T.A.R. Labs if I hadn't tried to send the League after him. None of this would have happened."

"Dammit, Wally! This is not your fault!" Artemis snapped, whirling on him in righteous anger. "Deathstroke did this."

"Sure. But I made it worse."

Artemis took a deep breath and exhaled heavily, trying to get all the frustration and anger and worry out. Wally was still glaring at the window like he was trying to develop heat-vision. Artemis changed the topic suddenly.

"I can't believe the League just bought it."

"The Watchtower being part of Batman's plan?" Wally asked. Artemis nodded, relieved that he'd gone along with the change.

"I mean, they were all they when Robin broke in. Plus, they spent an entire week on a global manhunt for him."

"I don't know that any of them really believe it was Batman's plan all along, but nobody wants to dig for answers right now. It'll just make them look suspicious, and after all the mole problems, no one is willing to do that."

"Oh. Right. Well… at least that's one less thing to worry about. Now you just have to figure out how to tell the whole world Dick is being blackmailed without anyone finding out he's Robin. Easy."

Wally snorted in agreement, but it was more bitter than amused.

"Not sure how it happened, but my aunt ended up taking the lead on it. It's kind of out of my hands now." Wally paused, his fingers drumming a nervous rhythm on the windowsill. "I'm freaking out. This was all my idea, and Megan's too. That means it's on us if it all blows up."

"Look, I don't know what your plan involves, but you're not in this alone. This isn't the kind of problem any one person can fix by themselves. Yeah, maybe there's a chance this all blows up, but imagine how much worse it would be not to even try to fix it."

"Yeah, I know." Wally nodded, making a grim shape with his mouth that maybe could have resembled a smile. "You know they burned one of Deahtstroke's real covers. So if nothing else, that will piss him off."

"Good." Artemis said. Wally looked so desperately sad, and all Artemis wanted to do was get him to smile again. But that wasn't really fair to him. "How are you doing?"

"Shitty." Wally snorted. "You?"

"Not great." Artemis admitted. "Everyone at school had been so freaked out and I know it's just going to get worse when more stuff comes out."

"Yeah." Wally agreed.

"Why did Batman—Bruce, god that ever stop being weird?"

"Knowing their identities?" Wally asked. Artemis nodded. "Not even a little. If you want to keep yourself sane, never watch any of the old playboy Brucie gossip shows. Speaking of, they're cutting into the broadcast soon, if you want to watch it."

"I don't think 'want to' is the right word, but yeah."

* * *

Cat Grant

GBS Newsroom

* * *

"Thank you for joining us tonight. I'm Cat Grant, speaking to you live from GBS Headquarters. We're joined tonight by Bruce Wayne himself. Bruce, thank you so much for being here. I can't tell you how sorry I am for what your family has been going through."

"Thank you, Cat."

"To our viewers at home who are not currently aware of the situation, Richard John Grayson is fourteen years old. He is a freshman at Gotham Academy, a member of the math team and an active participant at the local food bank. Richard was last seen three weeks ago and on the day of his suspected abduction. Mr. Wayne?"

"Thank you." Bruce looked visibly distraught. "Richard is the most caring and kind person you could ever meet. He is a loving older brother and a devoted friend. We are desperate to find him and bring him home safely. We are looking for any information on his whereabouts. Please, if you have any knowledge that may help the GCPD find him, please call this toll-free number."

The interview continued, with Cat prompting Bruce to talk about his missing son in an attempt to extract any information the public needed to know. Everything was running smoothly until the lights suddenly went dark and surprised gasps went up from the studio.

"What's going on?" Cat demanded.

"Are we still rolling?" Bruce asked, sounding confused and uncertain.

"Wayne." A voice growled from the darkness. "We need to talk."

"Is that…"

"Batman!" Another reporter hissed.

A hissing noise filled the air and suddenly the room was filled with smoke cloud. The next second, the sound of shattering glass echoed crashed through the studio. As it cleared, Cat jumped into action and began barking orders.

"Does anyone have eyes on Wayne?!" Cat demanded. The security team Wayne had brought with him was on high alert, shouting instructions at each other and looking for their charge.

"There!" Kara gasped, pointing out the window to the low rooftop of the next building. Batman had the billionaire pinned to the brick exterior with one fist. Robin stood next to them, arms crossed over his chest and a furious glare on his face.

"Get a camera on them!"

"What have you done?!" Batman growled, loudly enough for the camera to pick up, even from a distance.

"What are you talking about?!" Bruce shouted back.

Batman's response was mostly inaudible, until his voice became a shout, "—impersonate a tutor?!"

"I didn't know!" Bruce could be heard shouting. "Please, Batman, you have to find him! He's in danger and it's my fault!"

"Batman, stop!" Robin shouted, pulling the Dark Knights' arm back. "Look at him! He didn't know!"

Cat did the only thing she could think of; she grabbed a microphone and stepped in front of a camera.

"Several days ago, we received an anonymous tip that Grayson's supposed math tutor was actually a man posing under a false identity. At the time, we believed it was little more than rumor, but given the fact that Batman himself appears to be interrogating Wayne for his part in his son's disappearance, we at GBS believe that you, the public, are owed the truth. Our anonymous source claimed that Richard Grayson was abducted by the high-profile mercenary Slade Wilson, who operates under the name Deathstroke the Terminator. What this mysterious man's intentions with Richard are, it cannot bode well for his safety."

* * *

M'gann M'orzz

Just outside the GBS Newsroom

* * *

"Let's go." Batman growled to Robin, and the two of them shot their grappling lines and swung away seconds before the billionaire's security team stormed the roof. Anyone who was intimately familiar with the Dynamic Duo would have noticed something strange; Batman moved far slower than usual, as if he was trying to allow Robin to keep up. And Robin, who usually flew through the air with the greatest of ease, looked clumsy and uncoordinated in comparison. Fortunately, the eyes of the world weren't on the Dynamic Duo; instead, the dozens of cameras and phones pointed at the scene were focused on the rumpled billionaire being helped back to his feet by his security agents. By the time anyone remembered the superhero team, they were long gone.

'_I am with your security team now.' _

'_Have them take you back to Wayne Tech and go right to my office, and have someone else tell Cat the interview is over. I'll be over in a few minutes to switch back with you.' _Batman answered over the mindlink.

'_Very well.'_

'_Thank you, uncle J'onn.' _M'gann added gratefully as she landed behind Batman on a concealed fire escape. He held the window open for her to climb through before following her inside. He pulled the window closed, locked it, and covered it with a shade before leading her deeper into the safehouse.

The safehouse was more of a two-room apartment, mostly empty except for a tall chamber on the far side of the room.

"This is the fourth zeta location in Gotham. If you need to come in or out of the city from now on, come through here and disguise yourself before leaving though the building's main entrance. There can be no sign of any kind of shapeshifters in Gotham, Martian or otherwise."

"I know." M'gann said. Batman nodded at her.

"This location is secure, you can drop the disguise."

"Right." She nodded, pulling off the gloves and utility belt and shedding the outer layer of Robin's costume before shifting back into her own body… or at least, her preferred disguise as Megan Morse. "I have the schedule, I'll see you for the next patrol."

"Good." Batman said before gathering the discarded pieces of Robin's uniform and disappearing into the zeta-beam.

* * *

Dick Grayson

Somewhere in Manhattan

Some date that is either the day after the Watchtower, or several months later. It's impossible to know.

* * *

The alarm goes off. I don't even try to turn it off. Eventually, the constant blaring just fades into background noise, like the remnants of a bad dream.

The door opening is a new sound.

"Get up." Slade orders. The brief second where I wasn't sure where I was crashes apart and burns.

"No." I grumble, my head buried under the pillow.

"You have five minutes before the automatic lock shuts you in here for the next twelve hours. And you are mistaken if you think I will let you out before then."

"I said I'm not working for you anymore. Why do you care when I get up?" I spit, checking to see that it's almost 5:45 in the morning. Slade is standing in the doorway, a raised eyebrow on his otherwise blank face when I look at him.

"Because you may not have anywhere to be, but I have a tight schedule I need to keep to. If you have any interest in leaving this room today, you have four and a half minutes."

"Screw you." I sneer, pushing off the covers and heading for the bathroom. Five minutes isn't a lot of time to get changed and brush my teeth, and Slade still hasn't moved from the doorway when I come back out.

"Can I help you?" I ask sarcastically.

"I don't care for your tone." Slade answers.

"What, does it hurt your feelings?" I shoot back.

"I believe you owe me an apology for your rudeness."

Is he seriously doing this? It's not enough that he tricked me into ruining my life and then kidnapped me, he's going to treat me like nothing has changed?

"What are you going to do if I don't? Because there's no way in hell I'm apologizing to you, asshole."

Somewhere in the back of my head, I know talking to him like this is a truly terrible idea. But, it's not even six in the morning and I'm exhausted and I barely slept at all last night, so it's safe to say my brain isn't working right now. The alarm bells are working though, and they start going off as soon as Slade's eyebrow rises even higher.

"What am I going to do to you? Absolutely nothing. You see, I don't need to. Don't forget, I know you, maybe even better than you know yourself. I'll tell you exactly what I'm doing, if you'd like."

"I don't care." My palms feel clammy and my heartbeat speeds up.

"We both know that's not true. You're pretending to be angry and lashing out because you're scared. You know that I can and will leave you in this room without a second thought. And if there's one thing that just breaks you," my stomach clenches violently, "it's being trapped."

"Fuck you, Slade."

"Lashing out again." His hand shoots out and grabs the front of my shirt, dragging me off balance so his face is only a few inches from mine. My feet scramble to find the floor and I grab his hand, trying to wrench myself free but his grip is too strong. A beat of sweat rolls down my back and fighting back the wave of terror is impossible. Slade grins, his eye ice cold, and I haven't been this scared since that day in the Haunt.

_We'll try again in a few days._

"We both know what I could do to you." Slade's voice is almost a whisper. "But I don't need to do any of it."

He drops the grip and I stumble back into the room, trying to get away from him.

"I don't need to hurt you to get what I want, because I already have you. This is your new cage, Richard. It's only a matter of time before it breaks you."

Silence fills the room and I fight back the flood of terrified emotions.

"Speaking of time, you have less than a minute before the door locks. And I'm still waiting for that apology."

I freeze, terror seizing my chest. The walls are too close and I have to get out of here, no matter what it takes.

"I'm sorry!"

For a terrifying second, I think Slade is going to laugh in my face and slam the door. Instead, he nods and the smug look on his face gets more pronounced.

"Apology accepted. Let's go." With that, he disappears down the hall. I hurry out the door and freeze on the other side. There's a chance he was bluffing. That chance evaporates when a red LED turns on above the door and it slams shut on its own, a whirring sound behind the lock mechanism. I try the handle and it doesn't even turn.

Holy shit. He wasn't bluffing. He was not bluffing, and if I'd waited five more seconds, I'd be stuck on the other side of that door for the rest of the day.

I stumble down the hallway, passing a small bathroom and assorted closets before I reach the combined kitchen, dining room, living room area. The kitchen appliances are all brand new and the cabinets and furniture are all made of dark brown wood. The living room area has a glass table, a sleek couch and some chairs and there's even a tv.

Slade is pulling items out of cabinets and I slowly sink onto one of the stools in front of the counter where a bowl has been set out. 

He puts a box of cheerios, a carton of milk and a bunch of bananas in front of me. I take the cereal box and fill the bowl numbly; I might not want to, but I'll definitely regret it later if I don't eat anything. I try to eat, but the everything just tastes like sawdust in my mouth. Slimy, gross sawdust.

"And there's not even any coffee," I grumble to myself, trying to pretend that the food is the part that makes this so horrible.

"What was that?" Slade turns around after putting the boxes away.

"Nothing." I mumble.

"Richard." Slade warns.

"Fine! I said, what, no coffee?" I snap. Slade stops, then turns back to the cabinet and pulls out a pack of grounds.

"You can have coffee if you'd like." He answers.

I blink.

"Uh… what?"

"Coffee is a perfectly reasonable request," Slade says like he didn't just slam me against a wall a few minutes ago for telling him to screw off. And then he proceeds to start making coffee for me. I stare at him, my brain screaming as I try to figure out what the hell is going on. He's being nice?! He doesn't do nice! Even when I was younger, he only ever acted nice to get me to trust him.

"Can you just fucking pick a side!" I shout suddenly, surprising us both.

"Excuse me?" Slade does not sound happy and it fills me with rage.

"That's exactly what I mean! Stop pretending to be nice! You kidnapped me, asshole! Five minutes ago you threatened to lock me in that tiny room if I didn't grovel at your fucking feet!"

Slade doesn't answer, he just gives me a look and then turns around to start the water boiling. My heart skips a beat with the burner lights up and the blue-hot flames leap into existence. I gulp, taking a step back as if that's going to be enough if Slade decides to throw boiling water at me.

"Alright." Slade says. "I was going to give you the rest of the day to adjust, but it's time to go over the ground rules."

He leaves the pot of water on the stove and walks over to the table. I let out the breath I was holding.

"Sit." He says. When I don't move, he sighs. "Do I need to repeat myself?"

Balling my hands into fists, I sit in the seat farthest away from him.

"There are a few things you need to know. As far as this apartment goes, all of the doors are equipped with electronic locks. You will only have access to certain rooms at specific times. You will have full access to the living room at all times. You will get three meals a day, but any deviation from the schedule may result in missing a meal. You will be out of your room before six every morning. The door will lock automatically and it will not unlock until six pm.

"Why?"

"To encourage you to keep to your schedule."

"Right, and how exactly is this not you threatening me?"

"The room locks ensure that you are where you need to be. That will allow me to continue my work uninterrupted without needing to supervise you at all times. It is not a punishment, but I will allow you greater mobility and flexibility as you earn the privilege."

Earn the privilege, yeah right. A bigger cage is still a cage.

"Unless I am otherwise occupied, there will be three training sessions per day. You will be in the gym at six-thirty sharp for the morning session, and again at eight in the evening. I will meet you here for the second session at three in the afternoon. That schedule may be adjusted as needed, depending on the pace of your progress."

"What part of 'I'm not working for you anymore' did you miss?"

"I should have specified; the training sessions are optional. However, given that you don't have very much else to do in the way of activities, I think you'll find they aren't the worst ways to pass the time."

"And if I don't follow your stupid plan?"

"I will not force you to obey me, but I will demand a basic level of respect. So long as you don't go out of your way to antagonize me, I will show you respect in turn. Does that sound reasonable?"

"If you actually held up your side, it might."

"I am a man of my word."

I actually snort out loud at that.

"No, you are absolutely not."

"Do you have something you'd like to say?" Slade leans forward, arms cross on top of the table.

"That depends, are you going to hit me for saying it?" I shoot back, leaning away from him and hoping he doesn't notice how tightly my arms are pulled against my stomach.

"No." Slade says. "I won't touch you unless it's during combat training."

There it is again? What the hell is going on?

"Why are you being nice? What happened to all that creepy, 'You belong to me' crap?!" I demand, heart pounding in my chest. I don't want to remind him of that, I don't ever want to go back to that 'obedience or death' threat, but I don't understand what's going on. Slade is being as nice as he's capable of being and I don't understand why!

"Richard." Slade says softly, something almost like pity in his voice. "Look around. I feel no need to restate what should be glaringly obvious."

Fuck. No, he's wrong. Just because I'm trapped in this building with him doesn't mean he owns me, it just means that he's a controlling egomaniac.

"Why are you even bothering with any of this? Why not just beat me into submission until you get what you want? Or better yet, use one of those stupid chips on me and be done with it."

"Because I do not want a brainless minion. You may not understand this yet, but I do value your input. When you're not overwhelmed by the need to be a hero, you're intelligent, clever and highly resourceful. If I just wanted extra muscle, I would hire it."

"What do you want from me?"

"Ideally, I would like your loyalty. If that's not possible, then at least your cooperation."

"That's never going to happen."

"You agreed to this, Richard. You can't be surprised at my end goals, not when you've known them for years."

"Yeah, well maybe you lost some of my trust when you SHOT my best friend! Oh, and how about that time you tied me up in your underground bunker and made me think you were going to starve me to death!"

Slade sighs heavily.

"I'm sorry."

"No!" I shout, slamming my hands on the table. "You don't get to just say sorry! Own up to the fact that you're a monster or let me go!"

"If you're that desperate to leave, then go. I won't stop you."

"But you'll kill my family, right?" I spit.

"Yes." Slade answers, a heavy weight behind the word. At least he's not treating the lives of the people I love as a joke.

I sink down into the chair, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Is that all or do you still have more rules?" I grumble.

"There's just a few more." Slade says calmly. "There's a fully equipped gym on the twelfth floor, as I mentioned before. The elevator has a special swipe card for access; you will only be able to call the elevator once you swipe and it will only take you to the twelfth floor. Any attempts to go to a different floor will be punished accordingly. Aside from training, you'll have access to the gym from three to six in the afternoon. If there's equipment you'd like that isn't already there, I'll arrange for it to be installed."

Ugh.

"On days when I am not here, I will leave a workout and a list of tasks for you to do. You will have access to the gym upstairs from noon until eight instead of the usual hours."

"What if someone else is in there?"

"It's private access. There's no one else in the building who knows it exists."

"Convenient."

"There's only one more thing." Slade ignores my comment. "I've made arrangements for your schooling to continue."

For a second, the only thing I can do is stare at him.

"Are you serious?" I demand. "I'm actively being held hostage and on top of that you're going to make me do homework too?"

"You need to get an education."

"I was getting a pretty good one until someone kidnapped me." I shoot back.

"I've enrolled you in an online homeschooling program. You'll have six hours scheduled Monday through Friday to do your work." Slade says like he didn't hear me. "You will get a five-minute break every hour. Any additional time you waste will be added on at the end of the session."

"I'm not doing that."

"You have two options. Either you can do this program, or I will tutor you personally. I can assure you, neither of us will be very happy with that arrangement but I will honor your decision."

"Wow, more time with you? How could I possibly say no?" I mutter under my breath. I know for a fact Slade still hears me, but he lets it slide.

"In addition to your school work, you will also get ten hours a week to work on your coding projects with Hardison. Other than this, you will not have access to any technology without my direct supervision."

"I want to do video calls." I say immediately, seizing on the idea of actually getting to see another human being besides Slade.

"Absolutely not."

"He's trustworthy! Otherwise you'd never let me near him."

"His trustworthiness is not the issue. If you can prove that you are capable of behaving yourself, I will consider your request."

The pot of water on the stove starts boiling loudly, and Slade stands up.

"Those are the rules. If you follow them, you'll find that the next few years don't have to be miserable. If you deliberately flout them, you may find the opposite. Do you understand?"

I cross my arms over my chest.

"Loud and clear."

* * *

Day 1? The count has to start somewhere.

* * *

The alarm clock goes off at quarter of six. I pull myself out of bad slowly, exhaustion making my body heavy. I change into a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt, then brush my teeth. It's 5:52.

Plenty of time.

I open the door and make my way towards the kitchen. I make sure to leave the door open so it doesn't lock me out for the next twelve hours.

I don't hear Slade in the kitchen, so at least that's one good thing. I pass through the living room and my gaze snags on the sunrise coming over the tops of the skyscrapers. Off in the distance, I see the peak of the Chrysler building and I wonder what part of Manhattan I'm in. Too bad I'll never get to go outside.

I open the fridge. It's empty except for three plates covered in saran wrap. They've each got a post-it note stuck to them. I grab the one marked "breakfast" and take off the saran wrap. It's a cold plate of eggs and sausage.

It tastes even worse than it looks.

After I finish eating, I see the note on the counter. There's a short workout on it, along a book about the history of Rhelasia and a beginner Rhelasian language textbook.

Slade's not here today. I let out a deep breath and reach for the history book.

* * *

Day 2

* * *

Slade's bo-staff slashes through the air. I raise mine to meet it and they collide with a loud snap. I push up on his and kick towards his legs. Slade pulls back and then spins around, his bo-staff whipping in a circle. I block to the right, stopping the attack before it slams into my face.

He decided to pick up weapons training exactly where we left off, and I'm really starting to regret coming to this training session at all. It does feel good to let my frustration out, and the when I manage to land a hit on Slade, it feels great. But I'm not a fan of the part where he hits back. 

I slide back and lower my stance. Slade readjusts and I spring into the air, bringing my staff down towards his head. Slade raises his weapon to block it and I pull the staff up, trying to hit him with the bottom end. Slade dodges around the blow and jabs his weapon into my side. I land softly and spin, pushing his staff out of the way with mine before the hit lands. While Slade is still off balance, I slash down again. He dodges backwards then switches to the offensive. I swing the bo-staff and move backwards slowly while Slade advances. I watch Slade's body, ignoring how fast he's swinging his weapon.

We move at the same time, our staffs crashing together to make an 'x' between us. Slade pushes down with crushing force, pressing my staff against the ground. He doesn't move, and I try to pull my weapon free but it's trapped. My heart thuds in my chest and I'm starting to breathe heavily. Slade whirls around, and the pressure on my staff disappears at the same time Slade's staff sweeps towards my chest. I duck under and the staff passes over me. I aim for Slade's legs, but he plants one foot on top of my weapon and puts his weight on it, pulling me off balance.

At the same time, his staff slams into the side of my chest. I stumble, trying to keep my hands on my staff as pain erupts in a long line across my side. Slade lifts his foot and lets me readjust my grip.

There's a glint in his eye that looks too much like laughter. This is fun for him.

I charge forwards and swing, launching a series of close quarter blows. Slade matches them all but he's starting to sweat. He brings his staff up to block a downward strike and my staff slips under his after the initial hit. Switching directions, I jab my staff forwards, striking his sternum.

Slade stumbles back, lowering himself into a defensive stance. He shakes his head and the momentary excitement from landing a hit is replaced by fear. The glint in his eye is still there.

Slade moves so fast I can barely track his movements. I watch his body and block when he swings in a wide arc and push away when he tries to jab. He drives me back with blow after blow, but I manage to block them all. My arms start to burn as he swings down, bringing his staff towards my head. I raise my staff to meet his and the force of his hit makes my arms shake. The end of his staff snaps up and hits mine. The blow rips my staff out of my hands, sending it flying through the air. It hits the left side wall about thirty feet it the air and clatters to the ground.

Slade's staff swings through again, but I have no way to stop it from slamming into my stomach. I shout as the wind flies out of my lungs and I fall to my hands and knees, gasping for air. My stomach burns in agony and I curl inwards. My stomach is on fire and I can't get any air and Slade is standing over me.

"That was much better," he says, ignoring the tears running down my face and the way my face is turning red and he throws my staff down next to me. "Again."

Asshole.

* * *

Day 6

* * *

I feel like I'm just starting to get a handle on the routine when Slade breaks it. I'm reading the Rhelasian history book in the living room when Slade throws something at me and I catch it reflexively. When I see that it's Renegade's uniform, I wish I'd dropped it.

"Put it on." Slade says. "We have a meeting."

"I don't work for you, remember?"

"Make an exception."

"What? No!"

Slade crosses his arms and glares at me. It's the dangerous kind of glare that makes the room colder and sends ice down my spine.

"You will be attending this meeting one way or another. Richard Grayson can be tied up and dragged in front of the camera, or Renegade can quietly stand in the back. Your choice."

"Will get mad at me if I swear at you?" I ask tightly, heart pounding as I wrap my head around the fact that he's not bluffing. I'm not getting out of this meeting. The longer I fight this, the worse it'll get and I don't really want to see what Slade's version of punishment looks like if he's not going to just beat me up. Slade raises an eyebrow. "Fine. Then I won't say it. But if I do this, I want something for it."

"What makes you think that's how any of this works?"

"Because you like to keep a tight schedule, remember?" I meet his eye with a challenge, pulling a smile that I really don't feel onto my face. "You can either waste time trying to get me to cooperate, which will almost definitely make you late for your important meeting, or you can do one tiny thing for me and both of us are happy."

The look on Slade's face is half-annoyed, half-amused. "And what would that request be?"

"I want more books. Stuff that's just for fun, that Rhelasian history book doesn't count. And I know you're not going to give me any electronics, so I won't ask. I just want some books to read."

"Alright. You have a deal. But I expect you on your very best behavior."

"Fine."

* * *

The meeting takes place in the apartment directly across the hall from the one I spend most of my time in. Convenient. There's an office set up where "my" apartment has a living room, and beyond that is a room with screens on every wall. Slade directs me to stand at the back and be generally silent and motionless. Then he sets up the call, and I almost choke when Vandal Savage shows up on the screens.

"Deathstroke. You've certainly been busy lately."

"I'm sure the same could be said about you, Savage."

"Amusing, as ever. Although I have some concerns about your choice of company. I believe I told you it would be a difficult charge to shake."

"Be careful not to put too much stock in rumors."

"Is it him?"

"You'll have to be more specific, Vandal."

"You said you'd acquired a student, and yet, you never specified where."

"You know I don't discuss my other clients. Confidentiality is one of the reasons people seek my services, after all."

I don't let myself smile at the look of irritation that flashes across Savage's face.

"Grayson's disappearance is tied to you in the same week that Batman happened to uncover our plans. The timing seems suspicious."

Oh shit. It takes everything I have to fight back a flinch. Savage was talking about Deathstroke's student, I really should have put together that he was talking about me. If Savage is suspicious, this could get bad. Fast.

"Batman's meddling does have an irritating habit of getting in the way," Slade agrees casually. That's when it hits me; Savage doesn't know that Slade told me about the chips. He might suspect that I'm Renegade, but he has no idea how Robin or Slade are involved. He dropped Grayson... my name... but that's just a guess. He's just fishing, and Slade isn't going to give him anything. He's… on my side. Or at least, he's against Savage. "Now, would you care to move on to business or did you just call for a pleasant chat?"

Savage's lead-in is long winded and boring, dancing around the point for about ten minutes before he finally gets to it. Slade let him talk, no sign of the irritation other than the stiffening of his shoulders that I think I'm the only person in the world who can recognize as a tell.

"You wanted your chance to join the Light. I'm making you the same offer that my colleagues are making to a dozen others. Ten million dollars, and a seat at the table. All you have to do is bring me back my chips and that sidekick brat who got in the way." Vandal Savage said.

"You want Robin?" Slade asks like it's the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard.

"We have a leak. That brat got his information somehow, and he will pay for his interference. And if we can break the little bird in the process, well that's just a bonus."

My blood freezes.

Ten million dollars is… an insane amount of money. And becoming a member of the Light? What if Slade decides he'd rather have that than an apprentice who just makes trouble?

My mouth is dry and the nausea builds as Slade's hand lands on my shoulder.

"It's a generous offer, Savage. I'll let you know when I find something." Slade says, with no intention of letting Savage know that the things he wants so badly are right in front of his nose.

The camera finally turns off and Slade pulls off his mask, gesturing it's safe for me to do the same. But I can't move. I can't look away.

"They don't know?" The words sound so quiet and I hate that I sound so… vulnerable. I hate being helpless.

"No. They don't." Slade opens the door out of the screen room and I follow him into the office he has set up. It's totally different than the office in the Haunt, and if I didn't know who he was or what he did for a living, I'd never be able to guess that it was the office of a mercenary instead of like… an accountant. "Sit down if you'd like. There are some things you need to know."

He sits behind the desk, one leg crossed casually over his knee. My eyes flick over the computer, glancing across the wifi router on the ceiling, and finally meet Slade's gaze. He raises an eyebrow and I look away. He knows as well as I do that I could get a message out to the outside world using his computer, but doing anything like that definitely qualifies as trying to escape. I'm not giving him any excuse to hurt my family. Instead, I sit down in one of the chairs across the desk from him.

"The Light has no idea what's going on." Slade says without preamble. "They know that Robin apparently broke onto the Watchtower, attacked their inside agent, and escaped with all but one of the chips. They also know that the League spent a week attempting to find him, and during this search period, their agent managed to track down a second chip with no sign of either Robin or the rest of the chips. Because of this, they are suspicious of a trap, especially after Batman and Superman revealed that Robin's actions were part of a sting they'd set up to flush out the mole and that they had closed in on a suspect."

"They said what?" My jaw drops.

"Apparently, the members of the League were not happy to discover that Batman had gone behind their backs. Neither were they happy to learn they'd spent a week looking for someone who was not actually missing. Of course, in all that confusion, no one is exactly sure how the other disappearance fits in."

"What?"

Slade's fingers fly over the keyboard before he turns the monitor towards me. It's Cat Grant in her studio, and sitting Bruce is sitting across from her. The banner across the screen says, "Exclusive with Bruce Wanye, Worried Father Opens Up About Son Richard Grayson's Abduction!" 

I watch in horror as Bruce talks about me, about my disappearance and how worried my family is. But something's off. It's not his real voice, there's nothing normal about his mannerisms or even the worried tone in his voice. It's an act for the camera.

"He's putting on the show the world wants to see." Slade nods. "After all, I'm sure this is how you'd talk about someone when you've called off the search for them."

"Turn it off." I look away, "Please. I don't want to watch anymore."

"There's more." Slade says, and even though I don't want to look, I can't stop myself from turning back to the screen. Cat is making sympathetic noises to punctuate Bruce's fake sob story, and I can't watch it anymore. I don't understand why he's lying, why he's being so fake. Isn't there an ounce of real emotion he could manage? I thought… he might think I betrayed him, but I'm his son. How can he not really care?

The lights go dark suddenly, and the audio lets out a loud shriek of feedback.

"Wayne. We need to talk," a deep voice growls, and suddenly, I have no idea what's going on. Because that's Batman's voice, but how can it be if Bruce is being interviewed on National Television?

There's the sound of glass shattering and then the sound goes all staticky. It's a few seconds before someone yells, "Get a camera on them!"

The screen changes and the only thing I can do is stare. Batman has Bruce pinned to a brick wall with one fist. There has to be someone else wearing the costume, because Batman is several inches taller than Bruce as he towers over him.

"What have you done?!" Batman growls on screen.

"What are you talking about?!" Bruce shouts back. I have no idea what's going on… but then my heart stops. Standing next to Batman, with his hands crossed over his chest, is… me.

It's Robin. But it looks exactly like me. It's someone doing a perfect job trying to be me.

"What's going on?" I ask. My voice trembles, and I barely even notice when Slade stops the video. "It's a fake. How did they… what's… what are they doing?"

"You've been replaced."

"What? No. No, this can't be real! You… you must have faked it!"

"Plenty of things are being faked here, but make no mistake, Richard. This is Wayne's way of cleaning up the mess you left behind."

"Who is that?!" I demand, pointing at the fake me on screen. Slade shakes his head once, still watching me with that reluctant look on his face.

"You would hope that Wayne would have learned his lesson about putting his children in danger, but apparently not. Let's hope Jason has more luck than you did."

"No. That's not real, he wouldn't… Jay's gonna get himself killed! He's not ready to be-"

"Did that stop him from letting you out?"

I stop dead and stare at him.

"That's different!"

"Is it? It certainly didn't stop him from letting your friend Barbara into the field."

The words land, and they land hard.

"Slade, I have to do something, they're going to get themselves killed! Please!"

"You're unbelievable. All you ever wanted was to protect them, and how do they repay that loyalty? Batman replaced you, Richard. Everything you did as Robin, the name you created, the legacy you built, he threw it all away and passed it on to the next available body."

"No. You're wrong, it has to be…. no! He wouldn't! There has to be a reason, I know there's a reason."

"You want a reason? He was protecting himself from the fallout of your betrayal. He knows what you've done. He knows what it would do to Batman's reputation if his sidekick turned out to be a traitor, so he painted Bruce Wayne as the hapless imbecile who was taken advantage of by the conniving teen he tried to give a home to. Pay attention, Richard. Everything he's done, that beautiful confrontation he staged, it all absolves himself of responsibility for your actions."

I can't breathe.

"Look at Robin. See exactly how easy it was for your father to replace you."

"No."

"That's all you were to him. You were a useful tool, but never irreplaceable. And now you've betrayed him and everything he stands for."

"I didn't."

Slade doesn't say anything, he just watches me with that stupid, pitying look on his face.

"I didn't! He knows I didn't! Wally wouldn't let him… he would've told him that-"

"Your friend knows better than to open his mouth. He understood the consequences very well when we… talked."

"B...because you shot him!"

Slade shakes his head disbelievingly.

"Everyone in your life has turned their backs on you. You're alone, Richard. Even if you did manage to weasel your way out, do you really think any of them will accept you back?"

"Fuck you!"

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry. It's unfair that your loved ones don't share the same undying loyalty you have towards them. But you deserve to know the truth about how they feel."

My hands are shaking and nausea rises in my stomach. The Light has a ten-million-dollar bounty on my head and every villain in the world is going to be gunning for Jason, or whoever Bruce stuck into the Robin suit. Into MY suit.

"Why are you doing this?" I hate that it comes out as a whimper.

"Richard, you are intelligent, resourceful and talented. You have so much potential, and it is not going to be wasted on people who don't appreciate you."

"Like you do?" I spit, wiping the stinging tears away from my eyes before they can fall. I'm not going to cry in front of Slade. I'm not.

"I've always appreciated you. I know who you are, Richard. I know everything about you and I promise you, no matter how much you may hate me, I will not turn my back on you."

Instead of answering, I grind my teeth together. Slade isn't on my side. He kidnapped me. He's holding my family's lives over my head. He's spent years lying to me and manipulating me! He's not my friend. I can't trust him!

So why the hell did something in my chest relax when he said that? Why does some stupid part of me feel relieved? Shit, is this Stockholm Syndrome? Can I even trust my own brain anymore?

My internal monologue cuts off abruptly when Slade puts something down on the desk between us.

"Here. You thought I wouldn't trust you with any electronics. This is a show of good faith."

It's an iPod. Complete with a charger and headphones.

"You may download any books or music that you'd like. If you can prove yourself to be responsible with it, I might allow you to download movies. I will be monitoring your account and if I see any activity that I have not explicitly allowed, which I will emphasize because I know exactly how good you are with technology, I will take the device away permanently. Does that sound reasonable?"

"Any books I want? Any music?" I ask, totally stunned. This is… way beyond anything I could have hoped for. It's too good to be true. It has to be. Slade wouldn't just trust me with something like this.

"So long as you follow the conditions, I've given you, then yes. Of course, if you'd prefer hardcover books, you can have those instead."

"No, I…" I reach out to take the iPod, my fingers trembling. There's part of me that expects he's going to pull it away at the last second, or tack on another condition that's going to rip away this tiny moment of… something. But he doesn't. A wave of confusion crashes over me when I'm holding the iPod and there's no catch. Slade just leans back and crosses his arms over his chest casually. I look up at him and he doesn't say anything. "…thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many developments! Poor Dick is so confused and the game has officially begun. It seems like Slade has all the cards, but this isn't Dick versus some unknown threat. He's had a few years to get used to Slade and all of his tricks. I wonder if that will be enough? 
> 
> Also, the Light knows that there's a connection between "Batman's plan" for Robin to steal the chips and Richard Grayson's disappearance. But just because Savage has his suspicions doesn't mean any of them have the answers. Dick may have been tricked into making a horrible mistake, but he well and truly destroyed the Light's sources of information in the process. So it's not all bad, right?
> 
> I'm dying to hear what you guys think! I had so much fun writing this chapter and all the mind games and moving parts. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed!


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did this section end up spiraling out of control and getting way too long? Yes. Please enjoy.

Dick Grayson

New York City

Day 6

* * *

It's the iPod. It's the stupid iPod.

I want to hurl it into the wall and watch it shatter because I can't… I can't be this glad to have anything that comes from Slade.

I know what he's doing. Rubbing it in my face that Bruce hates me, that he let Jason wear MY costume and use MY name, drowning me in the fact that I hurt all of my friends and ripped my life to shreds and he barely had to do anything. And the most bitter truth is that Slade really is the only person in my life I haven't hurt.

I know what I've done. I know that Bruce is never going to forgive me and I don't deserve it even if he could. I burned all my bridges. I threatened M'gann, I lied to Wally, I went behind Bruce's back, I used the team to pass information that could have been fake and I put all of them in danger. I pushed my siblings to the side and I lied to Babs and I accused Selina of being the mole and stealing information when I was really the mole all along. And even if it wasn't too late to fix things with any of them, I'm a criminal. I stole from Hizer, assaulted security guards, and I've been an accessory to dozens of other crimes, not even counting the fact that I attacked the Justice League and stole their evidence.

It's too late for me. I ruined everything and there's nothing I can do to ever fix it.

But just because I betrayed my friends doesn't make Slade trustworthy. He's the reason any of this is happening. He's gotten inside my head, learned everything about me, and used all of it to hurt me. He'll do whatever it takes to manipulate me.

All the lines I drew, they never stopped him. I stole for him. I lied to my family. I hurt people. I put fifteen security guards in the hospital for just doing their jobs.

I know exactly what he's doing. And the scary part is, it doesn't matter that I know. He even told me exactly what he was doing because he knows it doesn't matter!

Slade kidnapped me. Ignoring the part where he's been blackmailing me and manipulating me into doing what he wants, he kidnapped me. I'm trapped in this apartment. Right now, I'm trapped in this room. And even if I did manage to escape, he's still holding my family's lives over my head. Slade did all of that. He locked me in this stupid cage without anything to do, all so that he could make a gesture and pretend to do something good. He gave me the iPod because it's his way of saying, "See? I'm not that bad," as if he wasn't the one who took everything away from me in the first place.

And the worst part! The worst part! It worked! I was… I was actually grateful. It's literally taken me all night to untangle this mess inside my head.

I'm doomed. He has me completely trapped, and even if I could escape, I can't risk him hurting anyone to get to me. But that means he has all the time in the world to play his stupid mind games that are designed to get inside my head and mess me up.

He's trying the nice way. I have no idea what he'll do if it doesn't work. And as much as I hate him trying to get into my head like that, I know that if he starts torturing me… nobody could hold out against that forever.

I need a plan. He's going to win. It's like he said, it's just a matter of time. I need to come up with a plan NOW or I'm going to wake up one day and everything I thought I was is going to be long gone.

I'm going to break. It's only a matter of time. Even if he was telling the truth and he's not going to beat me into submission, I'm still trapped. He knows how to get inside my head, he knows how I think, he knows how to hurt me without ever putting a finger on me.

The Light has a price out on my head. And now, Jason's in danger because of it. There's nothing I can do to help him, there's no way for me to keep him safe.

I just need a plan.

There has to be something I can do, anything to get even one tiny victory against Slade. It's so tempting to just lean into it; if I work as hard as I can, do whatever he says, and try as hard as I can to earn his trust, I'll get my "privileges" back. The iPod is proof. Slade wants me to behave. He wants complete and total obedience.

But if I give in without a fight, Slade will never believe it. He'll know exactly what I'm doing and he'll use it against me. He's going to know if I'm faking it and he's going to drag out this hell for as long as it takes to make me break for real.

That means I have to fight him. I have to tell him where to shove his stupid rules and just… take whatever punishment he deals out. I'm going to have to fight back and suffer for it until he breaks me, and I'm going to have to do it without ever letting him know that it's deliberate.

How the hell am I supposed to do that?

I have to fight him and it has to be bad enough that he won't decide to just wait it out. He's made it perfectly clear he's happy to play the long game and let me do whatever I want until just being trapped here tears me apart. And it will. It's been less than a week and one single act of fake kindness drove me to tears here on the floor of the bathroom. At the same time, it can't be anything bad enough to push him over the edge.

If he gets mad enough, that'll be it. I was only tied up in that room for seven hours, and by the time he came back, I was willing to do anything. I couldn't fight him. The only sliver of hope that I have right now is the fact that he's willing to wait for me to break on my own, but I can never let myself forget that I'm one bad day away from the edge; if I mess up or push him too far, it's over.

This is going to be the hardest fight of my life, especially because I'll be fighting myself every step of the way. I know he's been… conditioning me. It's like I told Batman in the Iceberg Lounge, "Whatever he says is what I do. He says jump, I jump." I meant it. If I'm going to have any chance at getting through this, I have to be honest with myself. As hard as I tried to convince myself otherwise before he kidnapped me, Slade is already inside my head.

But I'm making a plan. Step one is to figure out how to make Slade think I'm breaking before I actually do, step two is to gain his trust, and step three is to do whatever it takes to get him to let me outside unsupervised. If I'm going to have any chance of fixing this, I have to be patient and think every single thing through.

And that means I have to figure out what my plan is for. Maybe I'll figure out a way to escape without him killing everyone I care about. But whatever it is, I have to get rid of the chips. That's what this all comes down to. If I can get rid of them, then I can make sure they'll never hurt anyone.

It's going to take a long time to get there. But I'll figure something out. I have to, because otherwise I'm doomed.

* * *

Conner Kent

Smallville, Kansas

Wednesday, February 9th, 2013

* * *

Conner took a deep breath and pushed open the door. The red sunlamps hit him immediately, and he was suddenly cold even though the temperature hadn't changed. The tray in his hands got noticeably heavier too.

"Hey. Brought you some soup. I have no idea if you'll like it, but Grandma says it was Clark's favorite growing up."

Match glared at him but didn't answer. Conner was about to give up when he growled, "What is it?"

"Uh… it's chicken soup? And… that definitely wasn't what you're asking, is it?"

Match glared even harder. Conner put the tray down and thought of the best way to explain it. The black clouding Match's eyes meant he was feeling angry today, and Conner needed his hands free in case there was a fight.

"Soup is a kind of food. You drink it for nutrients and because it tastes good."

"I remember good!" Match grinned suddenly, his whole face lighting up and the anger dissipating like it had never been there. "That's my favorite thing!"

"Good is a nice thing." Conner agreed, relaxing slightly. "You can eat soup with a spoon or pick up the bowl and drink it slowly."

Match nodded, excited to try the thing that had earned his favorite word as a descriptor. Talking to the other clone was… interesting. The remnants of Project Matchstick were filtering out slowly; Match was furiously angry most of the time, but when he got excited, he transformed. It was clear that on his own, the clone was way more cheerful than Conner (he flat-out refused to call Match 'peppy', but he didn't think Grandpa was necessarily wrong), even though his knowledge of the world was severely limited. Luthor's files confirmed that the info dumps had almost completely failed; Match didn't know most of the stuff the genomorphs had put inside Conner's head. He was almost a little jealous; once Matchstick wore off, Match would never have to worry about psychic interference or that the thoughts in his head weren't his own.

But right now, there were plenty of other difficulties to deal with. Match's understanding of the world was very, very basic, and the things that had managed to stick in his head had been scrambled by Matchstick. He knew how to talk, read, and write, and occasionally he spouted random pieces of complicated science or obscure knowledge, but mostly he had a lot to learn about the world.

Match had picked up the bowl and seemed to be enjoying the soup, so Conner sat in one of the spare chairs to keep him company. There was a stack of books and magazines on the table against the wall, so Conner picked up his usual textbook and picked up where he'd left off that morning.

"DNA is the blueprint of the body. Every living creature has its own unique genetic sequence that's made up of double stranded molecules called Deoxyribonucleic acid."

It was their usual routine. Conner read, Match drank his soup and by the time he finished, he was enraptured by the words. Personally, Conner found the textbook super boring, but Match hung on his every word like a fairy tale.

The textbooks had been Clark's idea. He thought trying to stimulate the other clone's brain would help flush out Matchstick sooner, and even if Conner wasn't sure it worked like that, he couldn't deny that it clearly made Match happy.

Conner had just reached the section on transcription when something clicked in Match's head and he began adding his own commentary.

"Prokaryotes and Eukaryotes perform the process of transcription in very similar mechanisms. The major difference between these two organisms is that—"

"Eukaryotic transcription is membrane-bound!" Match exclaimed delightedly. "I remember that!"

Conner looked up from the textbook in amusement.

"You know about Eukaryotic transcription, but you don't know what soup is?"

As soon as he said it, he knew it was a mistake. The smile on Match's face disappeared as the whites of his eyes turned pitch black. Under the red sunlamps, Conner's hearing was no better than the average human's, but he knew Match's pulse had just skyrocketed as Matchstick took over again.

"I don't know what I know!" Match growled furiously.

"I know." Conner said calmly, holding his hands up to try and placate him. "I just thought it was funny."

Match took a deep breath, fists curling up. He'd stepped closer to the sunlamps and that was a good sign; it meant Match was in control of himself enough to remember that the lamps helped him overcome the chemical.

"Funny as in illogical and out of place?" Match breathed heavily, fighting to hold the thoughts together despite the black clouding his eyes.

"Yeah."

As Match thought about Conner's answer, his eyes gradually faded back to white. Conner let out the breath he was holding in relief.

"Oh. It is funny. You smile when things are funny, right?"

"If you want to."

Match nodded, and then attempted to stretch his face out in a really poor attempt at a smile. It was still better than the first time Conner had tried to smile.

"Like this?"

"Try it more from here." Conner demonstrated, pointing to the face muscles that controlled the natural motion. "But don't force it. Smiling works best when it happens naturally."

"How do I make it natural?"

"Uh… I guess think about things that make you happy."

"Like what?" Match was getting frustrated again, and that growly edge was back as his eyes became tinted with black.

"Think about things that are good. You like good, right?"

"Yes." Match answered simply.

"Perfect! So think about good things."

"Okay."

Match's face screwed up in concentration. Conner could see the exact moment when the frustration faded and Match thought about something he liked, because the lines on his face smoothed out and the beginnings of a real smile appeared on his face. After a few seconds, Match opened one eye like he was peeking.

"Is it working?"

Conner felt himself smiling back at the other clone.

"Yeah. It is."

Match's smile widened.

* * *

Dick Grayson

Day 7

* * *

"Is there any particular reason you downloaded four full Johnny Cash albums?" Slade asks as he sits across from me at the table. I look down at my plate, pushing the chicken around with my fork. It's dry, bland and gross, but I'm pretty sure Slade will not appreciate me telling him just how bad his cooking is.

"I like it." I answer, trying to figure out if it's better to just choke it down or try to cover it in lettuce. There's a million and one reasons why I miss my family, and at least a hundred of them are about Alfred's cooking.

There's a loud clink as Slade puts his silverware down and the back of my neck tenses. I look up slowly to see Slade staring at me, the look on his face as cold as stone.

"Don't lie to me." Slade warns. "I would hate to have to confiscate it if I can't trust you with it."

I swallow. My stomach clenches and my left hand goes to my pocket, tightening around the iPod inside. I haven't put it down since I got it except to work out and shower; there's no way I'm risking Slade taking it away because I'm being too careless with it.

"Well?" Slade prompts when I can't bring myself say anything. I let out a long breath, forcing my fingers to relax before I accidentally snap the iPod in half.

"I used to listen to him with my parents." I force out. The words hang in the air, vulnerable and exposed. Slade's eye locks onto mine and suddenly, he's looking all the way through me. My heart is in my throat and it's suddenly easier to wait for the hammer to fall than it is to breathe.

"I see." Slade says before he turns back to his plate, and the words hit me like a bucket of cold water dumped right on my head. I pull in a breath, head spinning to try and process the fact that Slade found an exposed nerve and… and didn't push on it.

For everything that he has to hurt me, he's never used my parents. I don't know why the idea of him talking about them terrifies me so much more than anything else he could do, but he doesn't seem to have any interest in crossing that line.

I think that the conversation is over, until a few minutes later when Slade says, "I did not give you that device so that you could self-flagellate. If you have done something that warrants punishment, I assure you that you will know. But you are not to hurt yourself under any circumstances."

"I'm not." I protest.

"Are you sure about that?" Slade leans back, crossing his arms over his chest lightly.

"I… no, I…" I try to find the words to deny it, but there's a knot in my chest that won't budge and I can't get around it. Holy shit, he's right.

"I won't make you get rid of them, but for your own sanity, you need to put music on that won't trigger an emotional meltdown." Slade says. Instead of answering him, I stuff a piece of chicken in my mouth and wash it down with as much water as I can. The back of my neck tenses again, but I don't care if Slade is giving me a death glare. I'm not giving him the satisfaction of knowing he was right.

I refuse to admit that he… that he actually knows me better than I do.

* * *

Selina Kyle

The Iceberg Lounge's Backroom

Thursday, February 10th, 2013

* * *

"Listen up, you punks!" The Joker shrieked as he stormed into the room, Harley Quinn hot on his heels with her signature massive sledgehammer slung over her shoulders. "If anyone is going to crack the Wonder Bird's skull open, it's gonna be me! Got it?!"

"Yeah!" Harley punctuated, punching the air.

"All mimsy were the borogoves, and the mome raths outgrabe." The Mad Hatter shook his head, tsking in disappointment. All the Rogues present ignored him.

"They have gone entirely too far." Dr. Freeze graveled. "As loathe as I am to agree with the clown, the idea of Robin's death at the hands of an outsider is… unthinkable."

"Kwak! He belongs to Gotham!" The Penguin raged, slamming the butt of his umbrella against the floor. "I told you all that joining up with Luthor's schemes would bring nothing but trouble! And now look where we are! They think Gotham's a joke! Kwak! A nothing! They think they can just march in and take whatever they want."

"And spEAkinG of taking what's not theirs…" the Joker trilled, fiddling with his purple bowtie before whirling on Catwoman with a dangerously exaggerated look of disappointment on his grotesque face, "What gives, Kitty Cat? You really let that walking gun range take the little brat?"

Fury flashed through Catwoman's eyes, but she didn't rake her claws over the Joker's face like she desperately wanted to.

"That bastard messed with the wrong Cat." Catwoman growled, the claws on her gloves digging long gauges into the table. "And he is going to pay for it."

"Oh, boo hoo. Suck it up, Selina. Or do you really think we haven't noticed you've gone clean? Riddle me this? What's small, furry, and has no bite? A kitty that's lost her claws." The Riddler mocked in a drawling tone.

"You think so?" Catwoman smiled, a pleasant and deadly twinkle in her eye. Two-Face and Poison Ivy locked eyes, drawing away from Catwoman while Scarecrow leaned forward, enticed by the promise of violence. Before the Riddler could move, Catwoman's hand shot out, claws sinking into the fabric of his costume and dragging him out of his chair.

"I was This. Close. Edward." Catwoman snarled, the tips of her claws less than an inch apart and even less than an inch away from his face. The Riddler went cross-eyed trying to keep track of the blades that threatened to maim him. Eddie had never been good with blood. "To everything! All of Wayne's money. All his social power. All his sway with the press and the law and even the damn Justice League. I have spent the last two years playing nice kitty and being his perfect, adoring girlfriend, all for those four little words, and then Slade fucking Wilson swoops in and snatches up that snot-nosed little brat and all of my plans! Gone!"

She shoved the Riddler backward, snarling as he tried to stammer out a riddle.

"What was that, Eddie? Do you think there's any way in hell he's going to give me that TWENTY MILLION DOLLAR WEDDING while his kid's being tortured by that maniac? I almost had BILLIONS! More than you'll ever even dream of stealing with your pathetic word games! So don't you dare say I've lost my edge when I'm THIS CLOSE to more money than the rest of you have ever seen in your lives COMBINED!"

A gentle tap of her shoulder cut Catwoman off before she could make good on her threat to gut him.

"I got this one, Catty." Harley kissed her own hand and used it to pat Catwoman affectionately on the cheek. Catwoman barely had time to step back before the sledgehammer was swinging, and the Riddler came nose-to-mallet with a truly enormous hammer.

"Eddie." Harley said congenially. Then her smile turned into a pitying pout. "Eddie. What'a ya doin'? You've been off running around the world with your new pals, making big plans and breaking worlds apart and… yeah, I don't have a clue what you've been doin'. I watched a lot of Gossip Girl while you guys were all out… whateverin' with the whoevers."

Harley paused in her tirade to wink back at the Joker.

"Not you, Puddin'! That plant thing was pure gold."

The Joker took an exaggerated bow while Poison Ivy gagged, and Harley let out a giggle before whirling back on the Riddler. Her joy turned immediately into a cold sneer so fast it gave Catwoman whiplash.

She pressed the bottom of her mallet into his chin, making him tilt his head back.

"Like I was sayin'. What do you even want from them? Ya want money? Gotham's got money! Ya want fame? Can't help ya there. But you want to be important? It's Gotham, Eddie. It's always been Gotham. Who gives a crap about what Lexie or Vandal or the big hairdo are getting up to? It's doesn't matter! We already got Gotham! You used ta know that, Eddie. You're losing your touch."

Harley pulled back the sledgehammer, letting it thunk against the floor and using it as a cane to lean on.

"The way I see it, you got two choices. You can go back to playin' with your new friends and trying to make a name for yourself like a small-time crook," the mocking sneer on Harley's face was replaced by a look of pure steel. "Or you come back Gotham and you make them respect your turf."

Silence followed her announcement.

"So back to the matter at hand." Two-Face said, flipping his coin. "What do we do about Luthor deciding he runs Gotham?"

"We teach him to fear us." Scarecrow hissed from the back of the room. "Him and anyone who dares cross us."

"But leave Deathstroke to me." Catwoman ground out. "He's going to learn that nobody gets in my way. Anyone have a problem with that?"

She stared the other Rogues down, fury in his eyes. The Penguin nodded his approval. Dr. Freeze looked away. The Riddler paled when she got to him, but for once in his life, didn't have anything to say. Mad Hatter muttered some bullshit about grins without cats, and the Joker clapped his hands together delightedly.

"Here's how it's going to work from now on." Poison Ivy added, sliding up beside Catwoman and putting a hand on her shoulder in solidarity. "Go about your business. Plan your schemes. Kill the Batman. Make Gotham suffer. But, if you see you anyone in our city that doesn't belong, teach them a lesson. Gotham is ours; not the Light's, not Lex Luthor's, and it certainly isn't that walking pile of testosterone's city either."

* * *

Dick Grayson

Day 8

* * *

Beep. Beep. Beep.

My hands snaps out and slams the snooze button, turning off the alarm. 5:45 in the morning. My favorite.

I drag myself out of bed and stop in front of the window. New York City in early February is not a pretty time of year. It's pitch black outside at this time in the morning, but there are lights on in some of the buildings and there are cars driving around and if I press my ear to the (freezing cold) window pane, I can almost hear the hum of people going about their lives.

I would give almost anything to be down there, just a regular person living my regular life. Instead, I'm trapped up here, staring out the window and wasting valuable time that I need to spend getting dressed and more importantly, not getting locked in this room for the next twelve hours.

I brush my teeth, change, and grab my iPod with eight minutes to go before the door locks. What would Slade do if I just didn't go back in one night? If I crash on the living room couch, he can't lock me in my room.

Maybe that would make a good last-stand. On second thought, I don't want to risk him just taking the bedroom away… I refuse to say anything nice about Slade or even a little bit good about this place, but that is a really comfortable bed.

Of course, that's part of Slade's insurance plan; it'll be harder for me to run away and live on the streets if I'm used to eating 3 meals a day and sleeping on a good bed. Have I mentioned that Slade is an asshole recently?

There's no note on the counter. That means Slade is here again today and I'm supposed to go meet him in the gym in half an hour. Great.

I pull open the fridge door and sure enough, there's a plate covered in saran-wrap that says, "Breakfast." It looks disgusting.

I stare at the plate, wondering if I should eat it and risk being nauseous during training, or if it's better to just go hungry.

Heh. Maybe if I work hard enough in training, I can convince Slade to get me something from Dunkin' Donuts. It's New York, there's literally two of them on every block.

* * *

"Can you get me something from Dunkin' Donuts?" I ask, ducking a knife swipe and countering with a block. Slade looks amused, which is a big improvement over annoyed.

"We'll see."

"Come on!" I reverse my grip and swing high, following through on my other hand with a punch. "One breakfast sandwich and a coffee. It's like four dollars total."

"Do you have four dollars?"

"I do actually, let me just get to my bank account really quick!" I retort. Slade's knife whizzes through the air and I drop low to get out of the way. "Please, just one meal that doesn't taste like soggy water! It's less work for you, anyway!"

"If you wanted to spare me work, there are plenty of other ways for you to accomplish that." Slade counters, knuckles colliding with the inside of my wrist and knocking my knife off-course.

"At least let me cook something myself!" Anything is better than Slade's cooking!

"Do you even know how to cook?" Slade raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah." I retort. Okay, not really, but I've watched Alfred do it plenty of times, and I helped M'gann make cookies before and ow, I should not have thought about my friends. Mostly because it hurts, and also because that delay is all the opening Slade needs to twist my wrist back, grab my knife, and slam me onto the ground. The air flies out of my lungs as my back hits the ground, and Slade's boot lands on my chest before I can recover.

"Don't lie to me." Slade says, his heel grinding into my diagram. I gasp for breath, trying to pull any air back in but the best I can manage are tiny wheezes. My hands claw at Slade's boot, trying to push him off or get away but I'm pinned. There's no air in my lungs and I can't get anything past the crushing weight on my chest.

"Msry!" I wheeze, pressure building in my lungs between the weight of Slade's foot and the carbon dioxide building up with nowhere to go. My head is pounding and the room is starting to spin. Black spots blink into existence, blurry and dizzying. Somewhere in the back of my head, I remember that holding your breath is totally different than having the air knocked out of you and not being able to get any back in. I try to whack Slade's leg with my hand, but the message gets scrambled and instead I feel my arm hit the ground. I can't breathe, I can't breathe, I can't…

The weight on my chest disappears and I gasp, rolling onto my side while I cough as the air rushes back into my lungs. My head pounds and my chest aches and I'm curled in on myself against the mat. It takes a full minute of couching and hacking and wheezing before I can push myself up onto my knees.

"What the fu—" I cut myself off before I accidentally swear at him. We're training right now, which apparently means he has no problem beating the shit out of me. "What was that for?!"

"This is the second time in as many days that you have attempted to lie to me, Richard." Slade says, the knife in his hand glinting like an ominous reminder that my knife is halfway across the room and I'm still fighting off the black spots in my vision. "I don't care how innocuous or small the lie is, anything less than complete honesty is unacceptable. If it happens again, you will regret it immensely, do you understand?"

Honesty?

"You want honesty?" My jaw trembles as my hands curl into fists to stop the tears from spilling out. My face burns red, both from fury and from the hypoxia. I raise my head slowly, furious glare meeting that stupid, blank look on his face. "I hate you."

"How will I ever live with myself?" Slade returns dryly. "Now pick up your knife, we're not done yet."

* * *

My face hurts. There's a bruise the size of a grapefruit right above my jaw and it hurts to move it. The ice pack I found in the freezer helped for a little while, but then I left it on for too long and now I have a freezer burn on top of the bruise.

I lean my head back against the bottom of the couch, tapping my fingers against the floor in time with Van Halen.

Aside from how much my face hurts, and the fact that there's a boot-sized bruise on my chest, this part isn't that bad. I stare out the window as the guitar solo starts up, and it's so much more exciting to watch people walk around below when it's set to a soundtrack. I always loved people-watching. When I was really little, my cousin and I would hide behind the bleachers during shows and make up stories about the different people. It was definitely more fun to make up stories about the people at the circus, but there's still a lot I can tell about people just from watching for a few minutes.

There's a guy in a neon green bodysuit riding his bike down the block like he's being chased by a pack of angry rhinos. He's either training for a bike race or he's really, really late for an ugly-clothes fashion show. There's a group of kids with matching backpacks heading into a grocery store, and it makes me smile when they all come out with snacks and candy. The online school Slade's making me do is long and boring. Half of it is watching pre-recorded lectures, and the other half is doing poorly-explained practice problems and short-answer responses. The English class isn't that bad, especially since the first reading assignment is Romeo and Juliet, which I had to write a report on in middle school. It's too bad the plagiarism checkers weren't around back then; I can't even imagine the look on Slade's face if his secret base was blown because I plagiarized my old essay and whatever teacher is on the other end of this virtual thing put two-and-two together.

Of course, if I did that, Slade would kill my family and probably beat the shit out of me for good measure, so that's definitely not worth it. Still, six hours in the study is not fun and my back hurts from sitting for so long. Of course, everything else hurts from knife-training this morning. I'd pace around the room, but that just makes me feel even more trapped. Like a tiger in a cage. Or an elephant in a cage.

I miss Zitka. Elephants can live up to sixty years in captivity so she's probably still on the circus' regular acts. I wonder how she's doing. I hope she's happy. I hope the circus is okay after everything that happened with Parasite and Interpol on the international tour. I wish I'd gone back to visit one last time, as myself.

I promised Carlotta I would. It looks like that's just going to be one more broken promise. One more lie.

My head snaps up as the door opens, and my heart starts pounding when Slade comes in carrying a briefcase. There's a terrifying second where I think it might be THE briefcase, but the one with the chips is still tucked against the wall in my room.

I pause the music and look at the clock on my iPod as I take out my headphones. The time and date are wrong (three guesses who did that), but I checked it against the alarm clock in my room so I know it's two and a half hours late.

"I thought training was at three." I push myself off the floor, wincing when the bruise on my chest protests. The giant lump on my jaw aches, making it very clear that talking is not a fun thing to do right now.

"Change of plans." Slade says, putting the briefcase down on the dining table and pulling out a laptop. My heart skips a beat. "Sit."

"What if I don't want to?" I don't move, keeping my back against the window so I can keep my eyes on Slade.

"Hardison has a few questions for you."

"What?"

Slade pushes the laptop at me, but when I try to adjust it so I can see the screen better, he grabs my wrist.

"Leave it there."

I pull my wrist back, breath catching in my throat when Slade tightens his grip for a second before releasing me. I sit down in the chair next to him, watching him out of the corner of my eye while I try to get a good look at the screen.

It's the usual chat interface, but there's no code up on the main screen. Instead, there's a message in all caps.

"_ARE YOU REALLY ROBIN?!"_

I turn sharply, staring at Slade with wide eyes.

"He did arrange your escape from the Watchtower, it would be difficult for anyone to miss signs like that." Slade says casually, like it isn't a very, very bad thing for a criminal loose in the world to know the Robin is working for Deathstroke. Especially considering…

"I thought you didn't want them to know!" I hiss. "Or did you just make up the ten-million-dollar bounty on my head?!"

"If the Light finds out your identity, that would be very unfortunate. However, as I've said before, Hardison is trustworthy. And considering that he was willing to drop everything and come to your aid, he's not going to be spouting off any important secrets to your enemies."

"So what do I tell him?"

"Whatever you'd like. I explained this to you before; you get ten hours a week to do your coding assignments. I don't particularly care what nonsense you two exchange in the meantime."

"What does he know about me?"

"He knows that you're my student and you expressed an interest in improving your coding skills early last year. Other than that, the only things he knows are the things you've told him."

I nod slowly, hands curling into fists.

"I… I don't want him to know."

"Then tell him it was a setup." Slade replies casually. I take a breath, trying to convince myself to stop freaking out for like two seconds, then blow out a puff of air.

I can do this. Play it casual.

I type, _"Did you think it was real?! lol"_

Hardison answers immediately.

"_Don't play with me. There's no way in hell that was a costume."_

"_It's good, right?"_

"_Good? Man, I literally thought you were him! How did you even get a replica that good?"_

I let out a breath, relief washing over me. He bought it. He believes that it was fake.

"_Trade secret." _

"_Trade secret, my ass. But you're still actually a kid."_

"_I told you that months ago."_

"_Uh, no, you made a joke about being in study hall! That does! Not‼ Count‼‼"_

"_It wasn't a joke. I was actually in study hall."_

"_Great. Uh-huh, love that. I really helped a middle schooler steal from Batman! How the hell did you know he wouldn't be there anyway?"_

I wince. Slade raises his eyebrow at me after reading Hardison's message like he's curious to know what my answer is. I resist the urge to scowl at him and turn back to the computer.

"_Trade secret."_

"_Try that one more time, see what you get. Anyways, I got some bad news for you and some good news. Which do you want first?"_

"_Bad news."_

"_I was watching their investigation, got a few days of stuff before they shut down the system. The whole thing is totally off the grid, like they just turned the server off. I have no idea what they're up to or if they're getting close to you guys. Not that I know where you guys are now, but you get the point."_

"_What's the good news?"_

"_The good news is that last I checked, the Justice League had no idea where you were."_

The words slam into me and I feel sick. The Justice League has no idea where I am. I know it's stupid to hope, but there's part of me that's desperate for Slade to be wrong, that's he's not as good at hiding as he thinks he is, and that the League is going to find him and take him down.

But having Hardison say it? That hurts. He's not lying. He doesn't need to.

Hardison starts typing something else, but I can't bring myself to look at it. I feel sick and I miss my family and I hate myself for everything I've ever done to hurt them. I just want to go home. I don't want to… I can't…

"Can I be done?" I mutter. Slade looks over at me but I can't read the look on his face. "Please?"

There's a long pause, but finally, Slade nods.

"Alright." He closes the laptop and stands up, walking over to the counter to return the computer to its case. I let out a breath while my arms stay curled around my stomach.

I'm fine.

I'm fine.

Hardison doesn't know I'm Robin, that's what matters.

I'm fine.

The League doesn't know where I am. Bruce hates me. No one is ever going to come for me.

Slade puts a paper bag down on the table and the sight of it shocks me out of my thoughts. I stare at it, uncomprehendingly trying to puzzle out the strange pink and orange letters.

"That's fake." I deny. "It's not real. You didn't really go."

Slade raises an eyebrow. I reach for the bag slowly, staring down at the small pile of donut holes. Slade actually got me food from Dunkin' Donuts. All of the alarm bells in my head go off at the same time.

"I'm aware it's not a breakfast sandwich or coffee, but I didn't think you'd mind."

"Wh… why? What did you do to it?"

Slade sighs heavily.

"I did not intend to be so… harsh with you this morning. I apologize."

Rage fills my chest suddenly when I figure out what he's doing. I want to throw the bag in his face and scream at him. He doesn't get to bribe me with fake apologies! He stood on my diaphragm this morning until I was seconds from passing out. He's not sorry, not for a single second. And he has to know that I know he's full of bullshit. But if I do any of that, he'll retaliate.

And it'll be bad. (Plus, I definitely won't get to eat any of the donuts).

I know what he's doing. This could literally be an example of gaslighting straight out of a psychology textbook. But if I call him out, it'll suck for me versus if I go along with it, he'll leave me alone and I get sugar.

So instead of saying anything, I just grab the bag and head back over to the couch. I put my headphones back in, start the music playing, and stare out the window, trying not to think about the vicious smile on Slade face when I took the bag.

Fuck him. The donuts are the best thing I've eaten in… days? Weeks? Months? It doesn't matter. I know I'm doomed. Might as well enjoy the good things while I can.

* * *

Conner Kent

Smallville, Kansas

Tuesday, February 15th, 2013

* * *

"You should pick a name."

"I have a name. It's Match."

"No, that's not your name, that's the designation that Cadmus came up with. You should have a real name."

"It is a real name. I'm Match and you're K-R."

"My name is Conner. Conner Kent."

"I thought those letters were pronounced Kay Arr." Match frowned in confusion.

"It's a different name!" Conner snapped, trying not to lose his patience. "We deserve to have more than just designations. We might have been cloned, but we're people. You deserve a real name, just like me."

"Oh. Okay." Match's frown deepened as he thought. "I'll be… Conner."

Conner closed his eyes and resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Maybe pick something different than my name."

"But we're clones. We're the same." Match pointed out.

"We're not the same." Conner reminded him. "You deserve a unique name."

"I could be Clark." Match offered.

"That's already taken."

"Grandma?"

"That's not a name. Look, you don't have to decide now. Why don't you think about it for a while, and then you can pick one?"

"But I don't know any other names." Match said sadly.

"Of course not." Conner grumbled. "Okay, new plan. Have you ever heard of TV?"

"Yes!" Match's eyes lit up at the mention of something he actually knew. "Grandma yells at the TV box when sports are on it."

"Grandma gets really invested in football." Conner nodded. "TV has a lot of different shows, that could be a good way for you to learn about people stuff."

"I like learning about people stuff." Match said cheerfully.

* * *

Dick Grayson

Day 12

* * *

I let my head drop and hit the table in front of the keyboard.

It's been two and a half hours in front of the computer and my back hurts. I stand up and stretch, ignoring the inactivity message that pops up on screen. My back lets out a series of cracks when I stand up, and I twist from side to side to stretch my muscles. I've been sitting for way too long. My stomach lets out a loud grumble and I reach for the protein bar next to the computer. It's too quiet in here. The sound of the wrapper crinkling is the loudest thing I've heard all day.

The online school is better than having Slade try to teach me, but it's still boring. It's only been eight days and I'm already sick of it. The classes I'm registered for are either too slow, like calculus one, or too hard, like electricity and magnetism.

I finish the protein bar and crush the wrapper noisily in my hand. There's no trash can in here or in the bathroom. I'll go throw it out in the kitchen and then try to solve the physics problem that's been stumping me for twenty minutes.

I reach for the door handle. It doesn't move.

I turn it again, harder. It stays locked. My heart starts pounding.

"No. No!"

I rattle the door handle and when it still doesn't move, I kick the door angrily.

I grab my hair and try to breathe. The walls feel like they're closing in on me, but there's nowhere I can go. There's nothing I can do. I'm stuck in here.

I turn back towards the computer. The screen has been replaced with a timer, counting up from 6:28.

Slade said any time I wasted would be added at the end. He never said that it added to the time I would be locked in here. I sprint for the computer and start clicking, trying to turn off the timer. The screen returns and so does the physics problem.

I stare at it, heart pounding. My brain is spinning. Mostly with anger, at Slade and at myself. I've been doing these classes for a week and a half, how did I just notice that the door was locked?!

I'm NOT doing this. Right now, I have three hours, forty-two minutes and thirty-five seconds before I can do anything about it, but this is not happening. He's not locking me in a fucking box for six hours a day. I'm already trapped inside the building, this is too much.

Breathe. Six seconds in, eight seconds out. This is okay.

Actually, it's not just okay. It's good.

I just figured out the first step of my plan.

* * *

Conner Kent

Smallville

Saturday, February 19th, 2013

* * *

"Wait, he's just been watching TV all day?" Conner asked. Grandma Kent shrugged.

"He's really taken to it. It's been good for him, I think it's helped get some of that mess in his head sorted out."

"What are those?" Conner pointed to the stack of DVD's on the kitchen table.

"Oh, your grandpa picked up a few seasons of that show he likes so much."

"Queer Eye for the Straight Guy?" Conner read the title dubiously. Grandma Kent swatted him on the arm gently.

"Listen here, young man, if it makes your brother happy, then you are going to leave him to it and that's that. That poor boy has been through quite enough to get judgement from his family."

"You're right, I just meant… I mean, shouldn't he still be under the red lamps?"

"Don't need 'em. The kid's happy as a clam to sit and watch his shows, knows his own strength better than I did at his age." Grandpa Kent said, holding the kitchen door open for Clark before rubbing his hands on his overalls. "Seems to be soaking it up like a sponge. He ate dinner at the table with us, spent half an hour talking about how your space is an extension of you. At this rate, we're going to have to renovate."

Clark put a hand on Conner's shoulder, a hesitant smile on his face.

"It's good to see him happy." Clark said. Conner nodded in agreement. The first few days after freeing him from Cadmus, Match had been a superpowered force of pure rage. The red sun lamps had been Grandma's idea, but even though taking away Match's power made him safer to be around, it couldn't give him his mind back.

Conner never could have lived with himself if he'd let Match stay frozen in Cadmus forever, but he'd begun to lose hope that the other clone would be more than just a mindless ball of rage. The days had turned into weeks and nothing changed.

And then one day, Match talked. At first, he just repeated whatever Conner said to him, but once Matchstick started to fade, it was like a dam breaking. Soon, he'd been talking and smiling and laughing and pestering Clark and their grandparents with a million-and-one questions about the world and the universe. And now? Less than three months after Conner and Clark had rescued him from Cadmus, Match was hanging out on the couch, eyes glued to the tv playing his favorite show about lifestyle makeovers.

It was amazing. And it was all thanks to Robin.

Conner frowned, fists tightening without thinking. Clark frowned at him like he could read his mind and knew how guilty Conner felt. It had been almost a month with no sign of him or Deathstroke. Robin was out there somewhere, alone with no one but that psychopath, and there was nothing Conner could do.

"You guys know I can hear you, right?" Match called from the living room, breaking Conner out of his thoughts.

* * *

Dick Grayson

Day 13

* * *

"You didn't do any of your classwork today." Slade says when he enters my apartment at two fifty-six. It takes all my effort to hide keep the grin off my face; I was afraid I gave something away during training this morning, but judging by the annoyed look on his face, he had no idea I was planning anything.

Instead of gloating, I cross my arms over my chest and try to match his glare.

"I'm not letting you lock me in there for six hours a day."

"That's unfortunate. You need to get your work done."

"That's unfortunate." I parrot back at him. "Because I'm not doing anything if you lock me in a box for six hours a day!"

"Well then." Slade says, his face a blank mask. "It seems we've reached an impasse."

I wait, but nothing comes after it.

Instead, Slade pulls a file out of his briefcase and hands it to me.

"Picking up where we left off yesterday," he starts, and I scramble to get the file open before he launches back into the very, very, very tumultuous history of the sovereign nation of Bialya. "During the second wave of British colonialism, Bialya was one of three countries where the ruling party was allowed to remain in power under a governorship by the royal crown. It was during this occupation that large swaths of territory were divided form the nation, one of these territories would gain independence as the nation of Quarac."

* * *

Slade isn't in the gym when I get there. He said eight o'clock. It's eight.

For a second, I consider going back downstairs and checking to see if I missed a note from him, but it's not worth it. He knows where I am; that's what the hundreds of security cameras are for, after all.

I start my usual stretching routine, then I move into some light exercises, and by the time I finish warming up, Slade still isn't here. That's weird.

I grab a drink of water and look around the gym. Should I go find Slade? Am I supposed to just get a workout in on my own?

Wait, what am I doing? I don't have to do anything. Slade can go to hell for all I care.

I grab my iPod and sit on the mat, stretching out my back. The bruise on my face is mostly gone, and the boot-mark on my chest doesn't hurt at all anymore. The scab from when I whacked my ankle on the bottom of the couch this morning is also gone, and that was freakier than anything else. If I didn't believe Parasite before, I don't really have a choice now. I have a healing factor somehow, just like I'm way too strong for my size. Slade hasn't told me anything about whatever it is he's doing to me, and I hate it. It's like I told M'gann on the bioship back from Geneva; I know he's doing something to me and there's literally nothing I can do about it. I don't remember him ever injecting me with anything, aside from when he drugged me after the Watchtower.

I hate this. I hate all of this. I hate Slade, and I want to go home.

I wonder what's going on at home? Aside from the fact that Batman is probably still trying to hunt me down and bring me to justice. I know Jason was planning on joining the Gotham Prep wrestling team, I wonder if he did. And Steph probably has another dance recital coming up soon. Figures that I'll miss it; after all, I missed the last one because of Slade too.

The door opens and I look up, debating whether or not to get up and deciding, screw it, I'm staying on the ground. Slade hasn't said anything about my skipping classes today, but there's no way there's not something bad coming.

Slade walks in and crosses to the far side of the room without so much as glancing at me. He picks up the crate holding the training knives and heads back for the door. He's about to walk out when I fold.

"Where are you going? You said training was at eight. It's eight-thirty."

Slade pauses, turning his head to glance at me.

"If you haven't finished your material for class, there's nothing for us to work on. Stay and use the equipment if you'd like."

And with that, he leaves.

I stare at him, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. Why does he have to be so dramatic with everything, when the only reason he came in here was to tell me that?

Whatever. This is good. Apparently, the punishments for disobeying him is having him cancel everything else.

Slade cancelling training should be a good thing; I don't want to train with him. I don't want him to turn me into a mercenary. I want to go home, I want my family back, I want Slade to let me go and never bother me again. But nothing about this works on what I want.

Suddenly, I have a horrible, terrible sinking feeling that this prison just turned into solitary confinement.

I hate being alone.

I can't do it.

Slade knows that.

Okay, yeah, this is going to be bad. This is going to be so absolutely horrifically beyond bad. I should go find him and apologize, tell him I was stupid to draw the line and beg him not to leave me alone because at least I can hate him if I have to deal with him every single day.

But if I'm by myself?

The fear settles heavily in my stomach, weighing down my tongue and making my mouth go dry. My pulse picks up and I force myself to relax and breathe until I can push the anxiety aside.

I knew this was going to happen. This has to happen if I want any chance at making it through this with my brain intact. I can't give in now, I can't give in until there's no doubt in Slade's mind that I've given up.

Besides, nothing has happened yet. I can do this.

I have to do this.

* * *

Wally West

Central City

Friday, February 25th, 2013

* * *

"I'm not here to fight!" Wally shouted, putting his hands up.

The Pied Piper titled his head, his weapon aimed at Wally's chest.

"So?"

"I need to talk to Captain Cold."

"And you think we're going to just let you inside because you asked us to?" The Trickster demanded, jamming his hands onto his hips.

"Yes?" Wally asked.

The Trickster threw back his head and laughed. "Okay!"

"James!" The Piper snapped.

"What?" The Trickster whined. The two villains shared a look, and then the Piper shrugged.

"It's your funeral."

Before Wally could react, the Trickster threw open the door and bent over into an elaborate bow. Music and body heat blasted out of the Rogue's Hideout.

"In you go!"

Wally swallowed and glanced at the villains behind him. The Pied Piper gripped his shoulder in warning and raised a pointed eyebrow.

"You wanted in. Don't keep him waiting now, that would be rude."

"And Lenny hates rude people!" The Trickster chimed.

Wally stepped inside and the Trickster slammed the door shut behind him. The sound, amplified by the Pied Piper, cut through the music. The club fell silent and every masked eye was on Wally.

Nobody made a sound. Mirror Master and Captain Boomerang stepped out of the way as Wally moved towards the back. The villains behind them, glaring at Wally like he was a piece of gum on the bottom of their shoes, fell back like a curtain. With every step he took, they closed ranks behind him, boxing him in.

Captain Cold was taking shots of Jack Daniels with Weather Wizard at the back of the bar. Cold drained his glass, wiped his mouth and grinned at Wally. It was not a nice grin.

"I was right. You are an idiot." The criminal mastermind leered. Weather Wizard laughed, and Cold nodded his head to the side.

"Clear out, Mardon."

The other villain shot Wally a nasty look, grabbed the bottle of whiskey, and slipped through the crowd to the bar on the other side.

Captain Cold pointed a finger at Wally.

"You. Sit."

Wally slowly sat down at the booth across from Cold, knowing full well that he was closed in on all sides. This was a terrible idea. If they decided to break the stalemate, he was toast.

Heat Wave stood immediately to Cold's right. He crossed his arms, brandishing his flamethrower.

Literally.

"So, baby Flash. Welcome to our fine establishment. You want a drink?"

Captain Cold snapped his fingers. A bottle flipped across the room, landing with a smack in Cold's hand. He set it down and one of the rogues slid a glass onto the table.

Wally eyed the bottle of beer with distaste.

"No thanks."

"You sure?"

Cold poured the contents into the glass and set the bottle down on the table with a loud thud.

"Alright. To business. What the hell do you want?"

Wally felt the tension in the room skyrocket, and he knew that for all Cold's bluster, he was just as curious as the rest of them.

"What do you know about Deathstroke the Terminator?"

A mumble broke out in the circle of rogues, but Cold didn't seem to care.

"Maybe I've heard something, maybe I haven't. But why should I tell you anything about a fine, upstanding mercenary like himself?"

It was a challenge. Wally looked Cold right in the eyes, red lenses to mirrored blue.

"He kidnapped my friend."

The murmurs got louder, and Cold shrugged nonchalantly.

"Then your friend is already dead, or there'll be a ransom note soon."

He reached for the bottle, and Wally steeled himself.

"No. There won't be."

Cold's hand froze. The room fell totally, utterly silent.

Wally had never liked silence, but this was worse than anything he'd ever felt before. Fifty pairs of eyes were on him, and he saw shock, disbelief and more than anything else, curiosity. They knew something. And still nobody spoke.

"You have a code, Snart. You don't hurt kids. He took my friend and I have to find him. Please, you have to know something!"

Cold lowered his sunglasses and peered at Wally with icy blue eyes.

"This kid. Short? Spiky black hair? The kind of quiet where you don't know he's there until there's a knife in your stomach?"

Wally's gut clenched.

"If he was your friend, he's not anymore. He'd be better off if he was dead." Cold said.

"What do you mean?"

"Deathstroke doesn't exactly play nice." Cold drawled, spinning the empty bottle around its base. "He'll go as far as he needs to get a job done. Whether that's making a headshot or breaking in his new apprentice, it doesn't matter."

Wally's ankle throbbed at the thought, and the image of Dick lying unconscious on the floor took over. He'd been angry for Dick, for what Deathstroke had done to him, what he was holding over his head, and he'd seen firsthand what Deathstroke could do in a fight. But it never felt as real as it did, surrounded by villains who'd only heard stories.

Dick was in danger. So, so much danger.

"So you have met him." Cold grinned. "You should hear the stories they've been telling about his sidekick. You wouldn't happen to know anything about how that Grayson kid fits into it, would you? There's some crazy rumors going around about him."

Wally flinched and desperately hoped Dick could forgive him for this someday.

"It's true."

"Well explains some things, for sure. I heard Catwoman was raising hell. Got the Rogues on her side, turned Gotham into a No-Mans-Land for anyone dumb enough to cross the borders. Makes sense if the Terminator took something of hers."

"He's just a kid." Wally said, stomach tightening. "Please, Snart, even you know it's wrong."

"What the hell do you expect me to do about it, Kid? Anyone in Central tried something like that, then sure, I could knock them down a peg. But Deathstroke is a whole different ballgame. I'm sorry for your friend, but there's nothing I can do about it."

"Bullshit! You have a code." Wally snapped angrily. "He's thirteen and Deathstroke has been torturing him and fucking with his head since he was ten. Don't pretend you're okay with that! Not when you're the reason Central City has the lowest child mortality rate in the entire country!"

The bar went silent. Absolutely, dead silent. Snart crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back, pretending that Wally's words hadn't gotten to him.

"What." Snart's voice was cold. "Do you expect me to do about it?"

"Tell me where he is." Wally didn't know how he could keep his voice so steady. "Help me find him. That's it. The Justice League will handle it, all I'm asking is that you help me find him."

"I don't know where he is, Kid." Cold admitted. "I'm sorry."

Wally glared at him even as the worst hit like a crushing blow to his chest. He stood up, trying to hold it together when his only real chance at finding Dick went up in flames.

"Thanks for nothing."

"Wait." Cold called after him. He let out a frustrated snarl and pushed himself to his feet. "You're right, dammit. What Deathstroke's doing to that kid, he crossed a line. Don't expect any more help from me but… if I find out where he is, I'll tell you. Now get the hell out of here."

* * *

Dick Grayson

Day 20

* * *

Fifth time's the charm, right? I haven't seen Slade in three days, but I know he's in the building. He would've left a note if he was going on a contract. I think. I hope he is, because I'm losing my mind. I feel like ants are crawling under my skin except it's all happening inside my brain. I've tried the door at the end of the hallway four times today and it's been locked every time.

Slade has cameras everywhere. I know he does. He has to know how many times I've tried to come talk to him and he's just being an asshole. I only have another half hour before of gym access time before I'm supposed to be back in "my apartment." I don't know what would happen if I don't go back in time, but I'm already way over the line with refusing to do the online classes, the last thing I want right now is another punishment.

I try the door handle again and the door to Slade's unit is actually unlocked this time. He's sitting at the dining table, reading through a stack of papers. Slade ignores me when I walk in. I cross my arms, lean against the wall, and clear my throat repeatedly until he looks up. One eyebrow is raised in a pointed arch, but other than that he looks totally disinterested.

My chest tightens and I dig my fingernails into my palms. Slade ignoring me is a good thing, I remind myself. The only reason I want his attention so badly is that he forced me into total isolation for the last week. It doesn't mean anything more than that.

"Do you need something?"

"I finished the book on Rhelasia."

"And?"

"That's literally the only book I have. You won't spar with me, you won't let me cook anything, there's no tv, I need something else to do."

"You have your iPod."

"Staring at the screen all day gives me a headache. One real book." No answer. "Slade, come on!"

Slade ignores me and looks back down at the briefing.

"So that's it? You blackmailed me for four years, kidnapped me and trapped me in an apartment building just so I can sit around all day doing nothing? I'm losing my mind!"

He doesn't answer.

"Look, I'll do the classes! Just stop being an asshole and leave the door unlocked!"

"I'm not going to make you do them, but the lock is non-negotiable."

"Why?!"

"Because it ensures that you are where you're supposed to be and I don't need to supervise you at all times."

"You're such an asshole!"

No response.

Fine. He's going to ignore me? Let's see him ignore this.

I make a grab at the stack of papers on the table, but Slade is paying more attention than he said. He grabs my wrist, and before I have time to react, twists my arm behind my back in a tight lock. I try to pull out of it, but he grabs my other arm and pins both hands behind my back before pushing me out of the room. He shoves me into the hallway and slams the door behind me. It locks with a click.

"Asshole!" I shout. There's no response. I barely manage to stop myself from kicking the door in spite. Swearing at him is already pushing it, kicking his door after he pushed me out would definitely cross a line.

I stand in the hallway, chest heaving as I force myself to take deep breaths. I knew this was going to be bad, but it's only been a few days of Slade completely ignoring me and I'm slipping badly. When Slade ignored me, it hurt. That's bad. And just because I know why it happened doesn't make it any less scary.

This is a bad idea. I'm in way too deep to pretend that everything Slade is doing isn't working exactly the way he wants it to. I just want this to end but that's exactly why I can't give in yet. There's still a long way to go.

* * *

Conner Kent

Smallville

Sunday, February 27th, 2013

* * *

"Why don't you use your superspeed?" Conner asked, watching in amusement as Clark slung an enormous hay bale over his shoulder and carried it over to the feedstock.

"Force of habit," Clark answered, tossing a grin over his shoulder.

"But why waste your time when you could be done with everything in a few minutes?" Conner leaned on a fence post, and smiling as half a dozen cows made a beeline for the new food.

"Some things really aren't meant for superspeed," Clark laughed, patting one of the cows when it got close enough. "For some reason, the cows do not enjoy being milked that way."

"Did you really try it?" Conner's jaw dropped.

"I think I was fourteen at the time? It was one of the worst ideas I've ever had."

Conner laughed while Clark shook his head at the memory. Before Conner could ask for more details, his superhearing picked up something in the distance.

"Conner! Con!" Match shouted. It sounded like he was back at the house, but the sound got louder with every second. There was a rush of air that Conner recognized as a burst of superspeed. "I've got it!"

"Incoming." Clark grinned, and then a shockwave rushed through the field, rustling the fence posts and making the cows look up from their food. Match slammed into Conner in an excited hug before pulling back, beaming from ear to ear.

"What did you get?" Conner asked.

"My name!" Match grinned, looking more excited than Conner had ever seen him.

"You thought of one?" Clark asked curiously. Match nodded, the smile getting even bigger. "What is it?"

"Cameron!" Match—no, Cameron— beamed. "You both have C-names, so I wanted one too and I've looked through so many different names and I think it's the right one. Do you like it?"

"It's great." Conner smiled back at his brother. Cameron's eyes lit up and he turned to Clark, the look on his face turning slightly anxious. Conner felt his own stomach clench, remembering how much the rejection had hurt when he'd first met his dad. Clark seemed happy to have him around now, but Match—Cameron was only here because Conner insisted that they go back to rescue him. Clark had never wanted a son; now he had two and it would be Conner's fault if he hurt Cameron.

"Cameron Kent." Clark nodded decisively. "Welcome to the family."

* * *

Dick Grayson

Day 25

* * *

My legs hurt. Running on the treadmill is the only thing I still have to do around here, but there's only so long I can go for.

My leg buckles suddenly and I trip, whacking my knee against the tread before I catch myself on the handrails. The treadmill is going fast enough that the few seconds are enough to scrape up my leg and I stare as blood wells up under the skin.

I hit the emergency stop and the treadmill grinds to a halt. My lungs are burning and my legs feel like they're made of lead, and the display says I ran fourteen and a half miles in the last few hours. No wonder I'm tired.

When Slade lets me out of here, I should sign up for a marathon.

I grab my water bottle and take a long drink, chugging it down to try and cool myself off. Sweat drips off my face, and I can even feel it dripping down my legs.

Then I glance down and see it's not sweat; the scrape on my knee was way worse than I thought. My left shin is covered in blood and it got onto the treadmill too. It's a mess. It must have dripped onto it while it was still spinning, because there's a big bloody streak across the entire length of the tarp.

"Shit." I mutter. It doesn't even hurt, it just stings like a scraped knee, but I can't leave the machine covered in blood. At this point, I'm pretty much positive nobody else lives in the apartment building and Slade lied about them to be an asshole, but it's still a biohazard to leave anything covered in blood. "Dammit."

What am I supposed to do about it? I have to clean it up somehow, I can't just leave it like this for Slade to find. But it's not like there are any cleaning supplies in here.

(Slade doesn't trust me enough to give me a plastic knife, there's no way he'll let me have access to chemicals capable of making a bomb… or at least, highly toxic gasses.)

It takes me fifteen minutes to work up the courage to go downstairs and find Slade. I freeze in front of the door to Slade's "apartment," desperately trying not to feel like a guilty little kid who's broken something they shouldn't have. I tripped on the treadmill. It happens. This shouldn't be a big deal. I just tripped, and I'm trying to be considerate of the space. I didn't do anything wrong. Too bad Slade is definitely going to make a big deal out of it. The sooner I get this over with, the better.

The door isn't locked so I just walk in.

Slade doesn't even look at me. He's on his laptop this time, relaxing on the couch as he types. I steel myself before going full-steam ahead.

"Do we have any bleach?" I ask casually. Slade clearly wasn't expecting that because he actually looks up at the first try.

"What did you do?" Slade asks, and the edge of steel under his words makes my heart pound.

"I cut myself on the treadmill. I figured it was rude to just leave it bloody."

Slade closes his laptop and stands up. I swallow, but it doesn't help the dryness in my mouth.

He pushes past me and strides onto the elevator, and I scramble to keep up. He doesn't say anything the entire way up to the gym, and with every second that passes, my heartbeat speeds up. When we get to the gym, Slade takes one look at the machine and frowns.

"How long were you on it?" Slade asks. He does not sound happy and it makes my stomach twist with anxiety.

"A couple hours." I answer, looking at the dried blood on my shoe. "I just tripped. It's a scrape."

"I allowed you the use of this equipment under the assumption that you'd be responsible, both with the machines I provided you and with your own physical limits." Slade says, and as soon as I realize what he's really saying, the panic sets in.

"It was an accident!" My head snaps up.

"It was an accident caused by reckless negligence. If you can't be trusted to use the equipment safely, you won't be permitted to use it at all."

"Wait, no, Slade please!" My heart pounds in horror at the idea of losing the last activity I have left. I feel sick and dizzy at the thought of the cage I'm trapped in getting even smaller. "Please don't! It was an accident, I promise!"

Slade pushes a spray bottle and a roll of paper towels at me.

"Clean up this mess."

It takes about twenty minutes to get the treadmill clean. I scrub at the dried blood, trying to get it out from between the ridges, and my hand is starting to ache. The panic has faded… or not so much faded as turned to tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

"You are not to use a single piece of equipment for longer than three hours." Slade says suddenly. I freeze and look over at him. "And you will mindful of your body's limits. If there is a second occurrence, you will permanently lose your gym access. Do you understand?"

"Yes! Yes, thank you!"

* * *

Bruce Wayne

The Batcave

Friday, March 3rd, 2013

* * *

"What are you wearing?" Bruce growled, dipping into Batman's tenor. Jason raised his chin at him and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'm coming with you."

"Take that off."

"No."

"Jason, take it off!" Bruce shouted. Jason had dug out one of the old costumes that Dick had outgrown years ago, and to Bruce's horror, it fit him like a glove. Robin stood before him in all his glory, and suddenly all Bruce could see was the terror on Renegade's face as he disappeared over the side of the building. Bruce had almost killed his son, and Dick had only suffered at Deathstroke's hands because Bruce allowed him to put on the mask in the first place. He wasn't losing another son the same way. Especially considering the mass-escape from Arkham just a few weeks ago and the bounty on Robin's head. "Take it off, now!"

"I can help!"

"You are not going out, not now, not EVER!" Bruce roared.

"Dick is out there! I'm going to help you find him and you can't stop me!"

"You have ten seconds to take it off or you are grounded for the next month."

"Are you serious?! Let me help!"

"Ten."

"No!"

"Nine."

Jason seemed to realized he was serious, because the frustration on his face turned into outrage.

"Steph is right! You don't give a shit about us! You don't care that Dick is off being tortured by that maniac, you never listen to me, you don't even fucking care that Stephanie's dad is coming to take her away as soon as he gets out! Well, you know what?! If you want us gone that badly, then maybe I should just leave!"

Jason ripped off the mask from his face and threw it on the ground before turning furiously for the stairs. Bruce knelt down to pick up the mask, a heavy weight lodged in his chest.

"Jason, stop."

Jason turned, a half-hopeful gleam in his eye. The apology on the tip of Bruce's tongue froze when his son's gaze landed hungrily on the Batmobile. A cold, horrible wave of fear slammed into him.

"Go to your room."

Silence hung in the air as Jason's hopeful face turned stunned, and then fury won out all over again.

"I hate you!" Jason screamed, storming up the stairs. The hole in Bruce's chest, carved from blood the day his parents were murdered in front of him, gouged out even further by Dick's betrayal (by knowing that Bruce had failed his son and that he was to blame for everything Dick had suffered), ached with a new pain. Bruce ignored it, pulling Batman's cowl over his head. He had work to do, and Jason's anger was a small price to pay for his safety.

* * *

Dick Grayson

Day 34

* * *

I hate music. All of it. It just makes me think about places I can't go, people I can't see, and stuff I can't do.

I'm twenty-one days behind in my classes, and it would be even worse if there were lessons on Saturday and Sunday. I've seen Slade for a grand total of fourteen minutes this entire week, when he stops in to make sure I've eaten the disgusting piles of calories he calls meals.

As much as I wanted to not have to deal with Slade, this is killing me. He's been avoiding me for weeks, and I've been sitting around with nothing to do the whole time. He's not going to break. If I want to be able to do anything, I have to do it on his terms. And it's getting to the point where I might not be able to catch up.

He's not going to budge. I hoped there was a chance he'd agree to unlock the door, or at least let me leave the room for a break, but that's never going to happen. I can do it Slade's way, or I can be left alone indefinitely.

I can't do this anymore. I can't. I'd rather spend every single day listening to Slade's bullshit than spend even another second alone.

This has to be good enough, right? I've tried to fight him for a month and I'm going crazy by myself. It's been a terrible month of loneliness, eating disgusting food, listening to music about people I can't see and places I can't go, and working out until my legs fall off. I can't take another day of this.

* * *

Conner Kent

Wednesday, March 8th, 2013

* * *

"Kara." Conner blinked. "Hi, what are you doing here?"

"It's nice to see you too, Conner." Kara smiled sweetly at him, only teasing him a little bit for being rude.

"Wait, why are you here?"

"We're going shopping!" Cam announced from the living room.

"Oh." Conner blinked, feeling stupid. Then, mostly he felt surprised. "Okay."

"Do you want to come with us? Aunt Martha says you could use some different clothes."

"Pass." Conner crossed his arms over his chest.

"Clothes are a big part of how you show yourself to the world." Cam said. Kara nodded, pointing a finger to emphasize Cam's words. Conner rolled his eyes.

"You've been watching way too much of that show." He told Cam.

"Don't be a hater."

"Two months ago, you didn't know what soup was!" He retorted.

"Okay, you know what? I think this is a good time for us to leave. We'll see you later," Kara laughed, pulling Cam out before the argument could devolve any further. "Bye cuz!"

Cameron winked at him before the two of them took off. Conner rolled his eyes, but he couldn't stop the smile on his face. He sat down on the porch, staring out across the cornfields. Matchstick was long gone, and Cameron had seized his chance to be a real person. Conner wasn't sure how long it had taken him to stop thinking of himself as a weapon and to start thinking of himself as just… Conner.

Honestly, he was just glad. What Cadmus had done to them wasn't the same. If he was being really honest with himself, he was a little jealous that Matchstick was a chemical that faded on its own. Cameron didn't have anything in his head, no doubts, no purpose implanted by the genomorphs. Conner knew he'd grown a lot since his friends rescued him from Cadmus. He also knew that getting better was hard, and sometimes things that were hard took a long time.

At least, that's what Robin had told him on one of their first missions, before Conner had even gotten a name beyond just "Superboy."

He wondered what Robin was doing now. If he was okay. Conner missed his friends. Living on the farm was fun. A few months ago, living with Superman and his family was more than he could have ever imagined, but he also never imagined how much he could lose.

Conner missed the team like a missing limb. Wolf and Sphere had adjusted to life on the farm easily, but Conner couldn't stop thinking about his other friends. He and Artemis still texted, but it was more of a daily check-in than any kind of real conversation. She'd long-since forgiven Wally for the secrets he'd kept, but Conner didn't know if he was ready to. If he'd known what was going on, he could have helped. He could have saved Robin and stopped everything from going wrong. Instead, the team had shattered.

M'gann was supposed to be staying with Martian Manhunter, but Conner didn't know where she'd ended up. He hoped she stayed in Happy Harbor; she loved their school and her cheerleading team and the normal friends they'd made.

Conner frowned. He missed her. He missed all of them, but M'gann was special. He wanted to talk to her, to see how she was doing and be there for her, but he couldn't bring himself to forget the fact that she'd kept the same secrets Wally had. They'd both kept crucial information from the team and it cost them everything.

So Conner hadn't reached out. And neither did she.

Losing Robin didn't just mean losing Robin. Conner had lost all of his friends in one strike.

Conner didn't know how long he'd been sitting on the porch when Grandma Kent stuck her head outside.

"Conner? Hon? Are you alright?"

Conner shrugged but didn't say anything.

"I don't know."

"You're worried about your friend, aren't you?" Grandma joined him on the steps of the porch looking out over the farm.

"Yeah." Conner said, his chest tightening. "I'm sure he's going through hell and I feel so useless because there's nothing I can do to help him."

Grandma squeezed his hand hard enough for him to feel it.

"Dick is a strong kid." She told him, sadness etched into the wrinkles on her face. "Stubborn as all hell, just like his dad. If anyone can come through this in one piece, it's him."

"I just wish there was something I could do. The League's searched the entire planet, all the tech and all the magic and even Sphere looked, and we couldn't find anything."

"That's the hardest part about having my boys out there saving the world." Grandma said quietly. "I know you've got the powers of a god, but it still scares me to death that there's still things out of your hands. Especially knowing all the stuff that's out there."

"How do you deal with it?" Conner asked. His grandma shrugged casually.

"Practice."

Conner rolled his eyes.

"I mean it, Conner. You do the best you can at what you can do. That's all you can do."

* * *

Dick Grayson

Day 35

* * *

"You win." I say.

Slade ignores me, and for a second, terror pounds through my veins and all the way down to the tips of my fingers. What if he doesn't stop? What if I give in and start doing what he wants, and he still leaves me alone? This was supposed to be the big moment where I admit defeat, Slade gloats, and then we go back to the way things were in the beginning.

Oh god. I messed up. No, no, no, please, no.

"I…" I trail off, suddenly scared to say anything else. He heard me, has to have heard me. And if he's ignoring me, what if I just piss him off trying to get his attention? "Slade, please."

My voice sounds so small and scared and helpless and I can't even bring myself to feel anything but desperation.

"Please, I can't do this anymore. I give up, okay? You win. You win."

"I usually do."

My heart skips a beat and a wave of relief so strong I almost fall over crashes into me.

"I'll do the classes! I did the lessons for today and finished all the assignments."

"Good. I'm glad you've come to your senses." Slade nods at me, something approving in his eye instead of that cold, heartless indifference and I feel like I'm floating. It's over. I don't have to be alone anymore.

"Can I… can we go back to training?" I blurt out. The approval on Slade's face vanishes until I'm staring at a blank mask, and it makes my stomach twist.

"Have you caught up on all your lessons?" He asks simply.

He can't be serious. Shit, of course it wasn't going to be that easy.

"Slade, come on! I'm behind so many, it's going to take me forever to catch up!"

"Then I suggest you use your time productively."

"Please!"

"I'll adjust the parameters on your bedroom locks to accommodate your studying habits if you choose to work longer."

"Slade!"

"What are you waiting for? You have a lot to do."

* * *

Ra's al Ghul

Secret League of Shadows Base, Somewhere in Nepal

* * *

"Richard Grayson is Renegade."

Ra's felt his eyes widen in surprise as he stared at the messenger. That particular revelation was not one he'd been expecting. He'd had his suspicions about Grayson's disappearance and the coincidental timing of Robin's theft of the chips, but he hadn't given that overlap more than a passing consideration.

Next to the messenger, Sportsmaster let out an incredulous snort. "Everyone in the world and Wilson picks a spoiled brat to train? I knew he was losing his touch, but this is something else."

Ra's ignored him, instead focusing his attention on the messenger.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Great One." His assassin bowed deeply.

"Interesting." Ra's stroked his beard thoughtfully, turning this new crucial bit of information over in his head until he'd decided on a course of action. "Sportsmaster, have there been any developments regarding the chips?"

"Not yet. But I'm still looking."

"As everyone is, I'm sure. And the boy?"

"Robin?" Sportsmaster asked. Ra's inclined his head in answer. "Gotham's become hostile territory."

"I had heard the natives were becoming restless," Ra's agreed easily. "And I'm sure the Detective has been wary to let his sidekick out of his sight."

"No one can get into Gotham." Sportsmaster crossed his arms over his chest, feeling more assured now that Ra's had given him the opening to admit his failures. "The crazies out there don't want anyone on their turf and they're gutting anyone who tries. Snart put out a full stop for anyone in Central, he cut some kind of deal with Two Face. Snart's people stay out, and anyone tries anything in Gotham gets nicely escorted out for Snart to deal with. It's saved them a lot of bodies already."

Ra's considered that information, the corner of his mouth flicking up into a smirk. It was an elegant solution, a very well-crafted response to a complicated threat. To anyone else, it would be impossible to see the larger strands tying to the web together, but Ra's knew the Detective well enough to recognize his meddling hand. To organize Gotham's riff-raff took manipulative prowess the likes of which only a select few possessed.

"Thank you, Sportsmaster. You're dismissed." Ra's inclined his head. Sportsmaster looked like he wanted to argue, but instead he shrugged and took his leave. Ra's looked down at the pile of documents the messenger had left him, a hint of something… cunning on his face.

"Very interesting, indeed." Ra's said aloud. "Arrange a call with the rest of my associates. I believe it's time we move forward with our plans."

Perhaps it was time for the Light to welcome a new member. Ra's did not trust Deathstroke, not at all. But this… Deathstroke had made a truly bold move, and Ra's could not argue that Robin would make anything less than a superb student. Surely Deathstroke wouldn't want the rest of the Light to know that he'd been responsible for the chips' disappearance.

This could prove to be a most interesting turn of events.

* * *

Dick Grayson

Day 39

* * *

"Please! I've literally done nothing but work and sleep for four days straight."

"And you spent the weeks before that begging me for activities to occupy your time." Slade says. "Hopefully you've learned something about the consequences of your actions."

* * *

Day 42

* * *

I jerk awake when my head slips off the desk.

Fuck. I'm still a dozen lessons behind and I've been doing 12-hour days for a week straight.

I'm going insane.

* * *

Day 46

* * *

"Let's make a deal."

"I think I've been quite clear in my expectations," Slade answers evasively.

"You always want something. What is it going to take for you to stop the fucking mind games and treat me like a human being?"

I glare up at Slade, and he turns away from his laptop to give me his full attention.

"Cut the attitude."

I blink.

"Seriously?"

"I don't have the time or patience for your snark, sarcasm or irreverence. You will do as I say without objection or commentary."

"No."

"I will not beat you into submission or force you to obey me on pain of death, but if you want to be treated with respect and trust, I expect complete obedience. Richard, I can play this game for a long time. Far longer than you'll last. I estimate you'll manage to catch up in another two weeks. You're already at a breaking point. Imagine how you'll feel at the end of sixty days of abject misery."

Fuck Slade. He thinks I can't last another two weeks?

Fuck him.

I'll get through just to fucking show him.

* * *

Kaldur'ahm

Star City

Monday, March 20th, 2013

* * *

"I need to speak with you, Roy."

"Kal, I'm busy. I don't have time."

"Roy, please. I'm concerned about-"

"Don't be. The chips are still out there. Whatever Batman's plan was, it didn't work and we're all in danger, and none of us can afford to just sit around and wait. The rest of the League might be okay to just wait our enemies to destroy us, but I'm not."

"Batman assured us he has a plan. There's nothing that we can do for now."

Roy snorted harshly.

"A plan? You can't seriously have fallen for that shit." He frowned, shaking his head. "You weren't there Kaldur. Robin attacked me."

"I understand that, but please. I need time to speak with you, Roy. Not Red Arrow."

"Where's the team? Why can't you talk to them about it?"

"The Team is… on pause." Kaldur answered heavily.

"What? Why?" Roy looked instantly suspicious and Kaldur felt too exhausted to explain, but Roy didn't seem likely to let it go.

"Batman's plan caused us just as much confusion as it did the League. There were some… harsh words, and harsh revelations. I thought it was best to step back."

"You broke up the team?" Roy accused. The hole from betrayal after lie after betrayal in Kaldur's chest ached.

"It's not that simple. Roy, please, I just need a few minutes with you."

"Kal, we've been talking for a few minutes. Whatever's so important, just say it. I don't have time to waste."

Kaldur frowned at the brusque words, but nodded anyways and continued.

"Recently, everything on the surface has become more and more complicated. The things I once believed in… are not at all what I believed them to be. And the things that I have been asked to do… are beyond what I can give. I believe… that I have been on the surface world long enough. I have been thinking of returning to Atlantis. Permanently."

Kaldur waited, heart pounding in his chest. Roy frowned, and Kaldur's pulse sped up. He hoped his boyfriend would object, would grab his shoulders and tell him he could only leave over his dead body or something equally dramatic, but the objection never came.

"And?"

Kaldur froze, absolutely stunned.

"I… I believed…."

"The chips are still out there, and Batman's pathetic attempt to flush out the mole just made the stakes even higher. I don't have time for your self-pity. Do what you want. Now is there anything else? You already made me late to meet Superman."

"No." Kaldur spoke softly, the last, broken pieces of his heart shattering into dust. "There's nothing else."

* * *

Jason Todd

Wayne Manor

* * *

"He said no, again! I don't get it, why won't he listen to me?!" Jason fumed. Barbara made a sympathetic face and nodded.

"We're going to find him, you know that, right?" Babs asked. A burst of static on her end of the call made her picture go fuzzy. Jason let out a huff of irritation.

"Yeah, but it would be way easier to help if Bruce wasn't getting in the way anytime I try to help!"

Babs snorted in agreement. Jason heard loud clicking sounds over the computer as she typed.

"Do you have anything for me?" She asked. Jason nodded, plugging a flash drive into his laptop and sending the files to her.

"The Batcave's scanners picked up weird activity at the docks. Can you get down there tonight?"

Babs glanced over her shoulder at her bedroom door before looking back at her computer screen.

"Yeah. Dad's working late so I'll have time."

"I just wish I could be out there! I hate waiting for Bruce to find something! He's not even looking!"

"Nobody knows what Bruce is thinking." Babs said, trying to be comforting. "But you know he's still looking. He's not going to just give up on Dick."

"I know." Jason grumbled. "I just wish he'd—Babs? You okay?"

Babs let out a strangled sound, eyes wide as she stared at her phone.

"Holy shit. Holy shit, Jay, go find a tv! Holy shit!"

"What?"

"TURN THE TV ON!" Babs shouted.

Jason was out of his chair in a second, sprinting for one of the living rooms and turning the tv on as fast as he could. His jaw dropped. He stared at the banner scrolling across the tv screen in horror, but he couldn't wrap his head around it.

_Superman declares, "Pledge your loyalty or be destroyed."_

"Humans of Earth," Superman announced darkly, cold fury where there was usually friendly cheer. Jason stared at his uncle in sheer horror. "For decades, I have watched over you. I have protected your planet and your people from disasters of your own making. Time and time again, I have watched greed and corruption run your civilizations into the ground and the expense of the defenseless. I have cleaned up your messes and fought your battles, and what do I get for this thankless task? It's clear that you humans cannot be trusted anymore; it's time for me to remake this planet as I see fit. I should destroy this pathetic planet and spare your species generations of suffering at your own hands, but I will offer you a chance at salvation. I speak now to the governments of the world and the ineffective body that calls itself the United Nations; you have forty-eight hours to pledge your loyalty to me. If any country opposes my claim to rule when the timer runs out, I will push the entire planet out of its orbit and trigger a mass-extinction that will wipe out all life as you humans know it. Choose carefully. You have forty-eight hours."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for nothing. 
> 
> Leave me a comment and let me know what you think is going to happen next! Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed!


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! Character Death! Ignore this at your own peril!
> 
> This chapter ended up being twice as long as I thought it would, and I need you all to know this was the only thing I did this weekend. I'm so happy with how it came out, and I hope you guys can forgive me. (Insert evil laughter here) Be prepared for a LOT of perspective changes, because holy crap, a lot happens in this chapter.
> 
> I also have received a bunch of questions about who Hardison is that it's finally important to answer. He's a character on a tv show about extremely skilled criminals who take down corrupt organizations and businesses to try and help people who've been taken advantage of. Because sometimes bad guys... make the best good guys. The show is called Leverage and it is wonderful, you should all watch it.
> 
> For now, sit back and enjoy the ride. I'm going to go take a nap because it's three in the morning and I'm TIRED.

Clark Kent

The Watchtower

Monday, March 20th, 2013

* * *

"Sorry I'm late." Red Arrow apologized when the zeta beam faded behind him. Superman turned away from the giant display of monitors and waved off the apology.

"Don't worry about it. Everything's been quiet today."

"That's good." Red Arrow answered. "How's Metropolis doing?"

"Luthor hasn't made any big moves lately, which would be a relief if it wasn't so worrying." Superman answered. "Unfortunately, it seems like everyone else sees it as an open invitation to make trouble. Mr. Mxyzptlk has showed up six times this month. If I didn't know better, I'd think he was trying to wear me out."

Red Arrow snorted, grinning along with Superman.

"How's Star City?"

"I wouldn't know." Red Arrow answered, crossing his arms. "Green Arrow and I aren't on the best of terms right now."

"What?" Superman's brow furrowed. "I thought the two of you had worked everything out."

"So did I. But apparently, he feels threatened by the work I've been doing." Red Arrow shot back.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Roy." Superman frowned. "Do you want me to say something to him?"

Red Arrow snorted.

"I think I'll live. Besides he should feel threatened. Apparently, I'm the only one getting any real work done around here."

Red Arrow reached into the pocket on his hip and pulled out a flash drive.

"You wouldn't believe what I had to do to get this." Red Arrow grinned as he tossed it to Superman. Superman caught the drive, examining it for any identifying marks and finding none. He turned it over, and it was the same black casing on the other side.

"What is it?" Superman asked.

"I don't want to spoil the surprise," Red Arrow smirked, a gleam of pride in his eye before he walked over to the Monitor Station and leaned on the back of Superman's chair. Superman turned the flash drive over again before following him.

He sat down, uncapped the flash drive, and plugged it into one of the computers. At least, he tried to. The USB wouldn't go in, so he turned it over, and it still wouldn't go in. Superman let out a huff as Red Arrow laughed at him. Superman frowned, ready to defend himself when Red Arrow raised his hands and said, "No I get it. Flash drives never go in the first time."

Superman shook his head, embarrassed at himself as he turned the flash drive over a third time and it finally slid into the computer.

"My two weaknesses; kryptonite and USB's." Superman muttered, opening the folder that contained the flash drive's contents. Red Arrow put a hand on the back of his neck comfortingly.

"Three." Red Arrow corrected him. Superman was about to ask what he was talking about when he noticed the flash drive was empty. There was nothing in the folder, no files, no data. No anything. Superman whipped around as Red Arrow stepped back, his eyes narrowing.

"Roy, what's going on?"

"Three weaknesses." Red Arrow held up a strangely shaped object and Superman recognized it, horror flooding his body as his hand flew to the back of his neck where Red Arrow had touched him. He felt something shift under his fingertip as the strange device finished absorbing into his skin, and he felt his body start to lock up immediately.

"No!" Superman shouted, trying to fly forward, but he couldn't move and there was a growing pressure in the back of his head that built with every passing second. The last thing he saw was Red Arrow reaching for his communicator.

Then nothing.

* * *

Barry Allen

* * *

"Flash, where are you?" Red Arrow's voice came through the communicator.

"Working out at the Watchtower." The Flash answered, not breaking stride as he sped along the overpowered treadmill. "What's up?"

"You're supposed to be on duty!"

"What?" That needed his full attention. The Flash turned off the treadmill and hopped off. "No, Superman's on duty now. He took over after my shift ended twenty minutes ago."

"He's not here. I came to drop off some intel and there was no one at the computer."

"Hang on. I'm coming up. Are you in the Monitor Womb?"

"Yeah."

"Lock down the zeta and transport bays and be careful. Something's wrong."

"Got it. You too."

The Flash sped into action, speeding out of the workout room and up the stairs, forgoing the high-speed elevator in favor of even higher speed running.

Red Arrow was waiting for him in the Monitor Womb when he arrived a few seconds later. Sure enough, there was no sign of Superman anywhere.

"You're sure he's not just taking a break?" The Flash asked, but he knew that was unlikely. There were plenty of Leaguers who would sneak breaks during their shift, but Superman had never been one of them.

"If by taking a break, you mean letting someone else take the reins for a while," A voice said from behind him. The Flash whipped around to see Superman descending from the vaulted ceiling of the Monitor Womb, his cape flowing ominously behind him while the look on his face was twisted in sick amusement. "Then yes, you could say that."

"Go get help!" The Flash shouted at Red Arrow. When the other hero responded by pulling out his bow and aiming at the Flash, Barry cursed himself for falling into such an obvious trap.

"Who are you?" He turned to whoever was controlling the still-hovering Superman. "What do you want?!"

"You'll have all the answers you desire when we take you too." Possessed Superman said.

"You know what? I totally forgot, I have a thing. Your evil plan sounds great, it really does, but I'm going to have to take a raincheck, okay?"

Superman caught up to him almost as soon as he moved, and it took all of Barry's control to dodge the blow that would have sent him flying into the far wall. He scrambled back until he got enough friction under his feet to zoom forward, speeding up the side of the wall and running up behind the massive zeta-generator.

The lack of heat vision confirmed that whoever was behind this either wanted the zeta-beam intact or they wanted him alive.

An arrow embedded itself it the wall in front of him and he skidded, trying to change direction as it started beeping. Gravity turned out not to like that maneuver, and the Flash lost his grip even before the arrowhead exploded. A frantic swirling of his hands generated enough of an air cushion that the fifty-foot fall didn't shatter his ribs, but the landing still left the Flash dazed and he lost precious seconds getting back to his feet.

He had to get to the zeta-beam. He had to get out of here and warn the rest of the League.

Superman shot forward, his fist punching a massive hole in the floor exactly where Barry had been a second before. A volley of arrows blocked his path, expanding foam and nets and weighed lines trying to drag the Flash to a stop.

Okay, forget getting to the zeta-beam. He just needed a millisecond opening to activate his comm.

Superman charged again and the Flash ran, trying to evade him but Superman was too fast. Especially when a bolo snagged around his legs and he tripped. Superman closed the distance and grabbed the back of his uniform, hauling him into the air before slamming him face-first into the wall hard enough to make him see stars. Luckily, it wasn't hard enough to break anything.

The Flash took a breath and focused all his energy on vibrating. He phased through the bolo, Superman's fist, and then all the way through the wall, freeing himself and putting an inch of steel between him and his attackers.

The Flash took off for the hangar, hoping that Red Arrow hadn't shut down access to the Javelins. He only got a second's head-start before the wall exploded behind him and Superman flew through, shooting forward and easily slamming a hand against the back of Barry's neck.

Barry froze, his body locking up like the world's worst muscle cramp.

"Are the cells prepared?" Superman asked Red Arrow as the other man joined them.

"They're ready. We can hold them all."

Barry tried to move, tried to yell or scream or vibrate himself free from his own body, but it was like a fog washed over him. The pressure in his head was building, so intense that Barry could barely hear the people right in front of him.

"Excellent. Then we're ready."

"Who do you want to start with?" Red Arrow asked, pulling out his communicator. That was the last thing Barry saw before the world went dark.

* * *

Diana Prince

* * *

"Clark?" Wonder Woman called, putting a hand on her hip. "Clark?!"

"Over here." Superman answered. Wonder Woman couldn't help but grin; Clark loved people watching. He had an obsession with those windows, and even though he could fly laps around the planet whenever he wanted, he always insisted there was nothing like the view from orbit with your feet on the ground.

"Find anything interesting?" Wonder Woman prompted.

"No. I actually have a favor I need to ask."

"What is it?"

"I think there's a problem with my communicator. Do you have yours?"

"Of course." Wonder Woman dug it out and handed it to him. "Here."

Superman smiled at her. The expression stayed warm as he tightened his grip and the device practically exploded into a shower of metal pieces and electronics. Wonder Woman's jaw dropped as Superman let the crushed pieces fall to the ground.

"What are you doing?!" Wonder Woman demanded. The smile on Superman's face didn't waver for even a second. "If this is some kind of practical joke, it isn't funny!"

"It's not a joke. I needed your help to set off the distress call."

Wonder Woman took a step back, her hand going to the lasso at her waist.

"…what distress call?"

A few minutes later, Superman stood over her unconscious body. He straightened, ignoring the growing bruise on the side of his jaw like he didn't know it was there.

"Yours."

"One down. The rest of the League to go." Red Arrow reported. "Flash, get her secured."

The Flash disappeared, taking Wonder Woman with him. Red Arrow looked through the windows down to the Earth floating in space below them.

"It's almost time. The world will soon see the Light."

* * *

Selina Kyle

Two-Face's Hideout

* * *

"It took a bit of digging, but it was nice to stretch these muscles again. Compiling witness lists almost brings us back to the good old days. Not that law school could ever be considered the good days." Harvey held out a piece of paper with both sides covered in names.

"Thank you, Harvey." Selina took the list from him and scanned through it. The supervillain watched her for a moment before clearing his throat hesitantly.

"Erm… we must say, as much as we are appalled that Deathstroke would so flagrantly violate your turf, we were worried that you had… approved it. You know that we go quite a ways back with Bruce."

Selina stopped reading and looked up at him. For all that Two-Face claimed to be Harvey's opposite, both of his personalities took personal loyalty very seriously. Selina frowned, matching the serious expression on Two-Face's two faces.

"Harvey, I swear to you that I had no idea what was going on. But that bastard is going to learn the hard way why you don't ever get in Catwoman's way."

"We are glad to hear that." Harvey looked relieved.

Selina returned her attention back to scanning the list of Deathstroke's known associates, vaguely recognizing name after name as military contacts, other mercenaries, along with a wide array of weapons and explosives dealers. One name jumped out at her near the bottom of the page and she looked up. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Alec Hardison?"

Two-Face nodded.

"Russo put them in touch a few years ago. Deathstroke needed a hacker for something and apparently never asked for another."

Marcus Russo was a notorious fixer, the closest thing the Rogues had to a talent scout. Selina had never used his services, she was perfectly capable of making contacts on her own thank you very much, but most of the other Rogues did when the cut-from-the-mold henchman wouldn't do for a particular job.

Alec Hardison on the other hand, was the self-proclaimed greatest hacker in the world. He was no cat-burglar, but there were only so many people in the world who were as good at what they did as Selina was. They'd never worked together before, but on one memorable occasion, he'd tried to hire her to steal some gimmicky sci-fi prop from a soundstage and she'd declined his (albeit generous) offer with a hard pass. She had standards, after all.

Now though, she was glad he'd tried to hire her. That had been the reason he'd appeared on her radar five years ago. It was also the reason why she knew exactly where he was right now.

"Harvey, I do not say this lightly. I owe you one. Thank you."

"We will certainly keep that in mind, Selina. Now go make sure that bastard knows better than to disrespect Gotham."

* * *

Boston Museum of Fine Arts

* * *

There was something about art museums that gave them a special kind of magic; Selina was in and out of the GMA every single day, and she never got tired of it. She would have made a terrible art thief is she'd even gotten bored of it. The history, the talent, the passion, the value. It was as intoxicating now as it had always been.

And tonight was the biggest fundraising event of the year; the entire Boston art scene was inside the museum in front of her, mingling, drinking, admiring the art, and reaching deep into their pocketbooks. It was a thief's paradise.

But Catwoman wasn't here for the art, or the wallets, or anything else inside the gloriously illuminated building with its classical architecture and Greco-Roman columns, and the towering posters displaying the Special Collection. She was here for the black van parked near the back of the staff lot near the loading bay.

There wasn't anything particularly special about the van, but Catwoman took a second to appreciate that it was a perfectly placed for a fast getaway. Anyone coming out of the loading docks would have plenty of time to get in and make it out of the lot before security could have any chance to catch up.

Catwoman landed on top of the van, deliberately hitting the metal as hard as she could to scare the occupant. She waited until the doors to the back opened slowly, before swinging herself down and slamming her legs into her target's chest.

The man fell back with a wheeze and Catwoman landed softly inside the van, standing over him in all her villainous glory.

"Hello Hardison." Catwoman cracked her whip threateningly, taking vicious delight as she watched the hacker's eyes dart around nervously as he looked for a way out or a weapon or anything that might save him from her wrath. "I like your van, it's very techno-geek."

"I didn't know! I…I… I swear, I didn't know!" Hardison stammered, raising his hands even as he lay flat on his back.

"I don't care what you did or didn't know. Tell me where he is!" Catwoman snapped. Her usual charm was nowhere to be found; instead, Catwoman looked at the young man in front of her and only felt fury. Batman had confirmed his hacking signature as the one that had interfered with the Batcave's systems and had overridden the zeta-beams at the Watchtower. Hardison had attacked her family and helped hide what Wilson was doing to Dick.

He was going to tell her everything and he was going to pay for what he'd done. In that order.

"I don't know!" Hardison repeated frantically.

"For someone who's managed to lock the Justice League out of their own systems, there's an awful lot you seem to not know."

"Look, if you just—"

The hacker tried to get up and Catwoman hissed, pressing him back against the floor of the van with her foot.

"Do not make me ask you again; where the hell did Wilson take him?!"

"I don't know! He wanted the messages scrambled!"

"I know exactly what you're capable of, Alec. Don't pretend that would be anywhere near enough to stop you!" Catwoman spat. "Tell me where he is!"

"Get away from him." A man growled from behind them in a thick Midwestern twang.

"Elliot, don't!" Hardison wheezed from under her heel, but Catwoman was faster. She spun, whip cracking through the air and stopping a few inches from the other man's face. He stopped, watching the weapon carefully as the end of the whip dropped to the ground. The look on his face made it clear he knew she hadn't been trying to hit him, just to make him listen. Elliot was smart enough to get the message.

Even though he clearly wasn't ready to back down.

"Don't you dare defend him!" Selina snarled, gesturing at Hardison without taking her gaze away from the hitter. "He is the reason that my kid is in the hands of a violent psychopath!"

Elliot Spencer stopped dead. The former marine-turned-retrieval specialist froze, before his eyes narrowed in fury and he glared at the hacker lying on the floor of the van.

"You did what?!" The man shouted, and Hardison shifted to try to make eye contact.

"I didn't know!"

"Alright, everyone, let's just take a step back here!" A voice exclaimed in a very calming British accent. The voice belonged to a woman dressed for a Black-Tie event, wearing a stunning Oscar De La Renta and matching Louboutin heels, with a diamond necklace draped around her neck that Selina recognized all too well. She'd stolen it on behalf of the man the grifter had taken it from.

Aside from Sophie, Selina was also familiar with the people standing behind her, wearing a server's uniform and a tuxedo respectively. Parker was a true cat-burglar, one of the select few in existence who could give Selina a run for her money. But Nate Ford… the former insurance investigator that had gotten in her way a few times back in the day? To anyone who didn't match wits with the Batman, he might've been a tricky rival but to Selina, he'd been a fun opponent to outsmart.

"Selina, I would really appreciate if you don't suffocate Hardison." Sophie Deveraux smiled sweetly, while the hacker tapped Selina's heel to desperately indicate he couldn't breathe. "Why don't you let him go and we'll talk this out?"

Selina stepped back and climbed gracefully out of the van, allowing Parker to run past her and check on the hacker.

"What's going on, Selina?" Nate asked her with a tilt of his head. He didn't look worried about the fact that she'd just assaulted a member of his crew, and Selina added that to the list of things she appreciated about him. Ford always knew how to read a situation.

"I heard you got in the game." Selina said. "Taking down the people who crush anyone in their way, fighting for the people that can't protect themselves."

"We try." Nate nodded. "Why are you threatening my hacker?"

"She said he was involved with Grayson's disappearance." Elliot growled, crossing his arms over his chest. In an instant, the suspicious look on Nate's face turned furious… and it wasn't aimed at her. Selina suddenly remembered that he'd lost his eight-year-old to cancer a few years back.

"Hardison." He said in a very cold tone. "You have ten seconds to tell me that you had nothing to do with it."

"I didn't know." Hardison said, looking at the ground. Parker was helping him sit on the edge of the van, but she stopped abruptly, literally dropping him the last few inches.

"Hardison, what did you do?!" The thief demanded, jabbing a finger in his face.

"I didn't know!" Hardison's shout echoed through the empty parking lot. "Okay?! I messed up! But it's not… it's not what you think!"

Hardison looked up to see five angry faces staring back at him.

"Look…" Hardison grabbed his head in his hands and took a deep breath. "When I was seventeen, I started skimming from the mobs. All of them, any accounts I could find. And it… did not end well. This guy Russo bailed me out, managed to convince them not to kill me and he didn't want anything for doing it."

"You got talent scouted?" Elliot demanded, apparently recognizing the name. "Unbelievable."

"Who's Russo?" Parker asked.

"Shush. I'll tell you later," Sophie whispered to her.

"Russo put you in touch with Wilson." Selina prompted. Hardison nodded.

"Right. I hadn't heard from him in years, then one day he called and said he had a friend who needed to hire a hacker. I owed him, so I said I'd do it. It was an easy job, a few hours and then I made…" Hardison shook his head like he was counting it, "SO much money. It was a great gig. Wilson was a pro; he gave great intel, he paid well, and—"

"And you didn't care about who you were helping him kill." Elliot finished furiously.

"What? No! It was like insurance fraud and stuff." He looked at Nate and swallowed nervously. "I mean… uh… Look, sometimes people wanted wills changed. Make sure they get their inheritance, that kind of stuff. You would not believe legal bullshit you have to go through to get it."

"Unbelievable." Sophie muttered, putting a hand to her forehead. "You didn't know who you were working for, did you?"

"I did! After… a couple years." Hardison admitted. "He wanted me to make him a bunch of new covers, so I looked him up while I was doing it. After I knew, I said I was done working with him."

"But you still made him his ID's, didn't you?" Elliot asked. Hardison shrugged.

"Damn it, Hardison!"

"Look, I'm not proud of it but it was a long time ago! I never worked another job for him after that."

"Then what were you doing in the Justice League's system in January?"

"Hardison?!" Sophie sputtered, eyes bulging in shock. Nate fixed him with a disappointed glare that made the hacker wilt in shame.

"It's a long story." Hardison began heavily. "About a year ago, Wilson reached out to me out of the blue. He said one of his partners wanted to learn to code and asked if I'd be willing to teach him. That's it. It was just a tutoring gig, so I said I'd do it."

"Are you an idiot?!" Elliot demanded. Hardison's head snapped up defensively.

"How the hell was I supposed to know?!"

"How were you supposed to know it was a bad idea to teach the partner of the most dangerous mercenary in the world to hack?" Nate asked, sounding decidedly unimpressed.

"You don't know him like I do!" Hardison shouted in frustration.

"You think you know him?! Hardison, he's Deathstroke the fucking Terminator! He makes the worst shit I ever did look like a day at Disneyland. And you just went along with whatever he said because you think he's your friend?!" Elliot shouted, fury and disbelief warring on his face.

"Stop it!" Selina snapped. She turned to Hardison, and for the first time, she realized how young he was. At twenty-two, she'd been overconfident and naïve. She thought her skills would get her out of anything, and acted like she was invincible… until she wasn't. Hardison, although he certainly hadn't helped, wasn't the problem here. "This is how Wilson manipulates people. He finds people that are useful to him and befriends them, makes them think he's on their side until it's too late. It's exactly how he got Dick."

Selina took a deep breath, winding her whip around her waist before looking at Hardison. "I'm sorry I attacked you. You know Wilson better than any of us. Can you help me find him?"

Hardison looked at her, guilt written all across his face as he nodded.

"I have a suggestion, how about we continue this at the pub?" Sophie said.

* * *

Nate pulled out a chair at one of the tables and pushed it at Hardison.

"Explain. Now." Nate said, sitting at the head of the table. Hardison took a deep breath and puffed up his cheeks before blowing the air out.

"I started helping Gray with his code about a year ago. There's a platform I designed to work on split-screen modules so you can see everyone's code, and there's a separate chatbox to talk. I use it for all the kids I tutor. Wilson found out I was teaching and asked if I'd mind picking up another student. There was nothing weird about it, I swear. The guy called himself Gray, he was kind of grumpy at first, but man, that kid's going to better than me."

"What kind of things did you teach him?" Sophie asked, lacing her fingers together as she leaned forward.

"I… he blew through everything I had in about a month. So I…" Hardison exhaled heavily, "…started showing him the kind of stuff I do. Making ID's, planting covers, multi-key decryption and… Gray just ate it up. I didn't know anything about him, but I had… there wasn't anything wrong. I swear, I had no idea who Gray really was. There was a couple times he joked about being in middle school, but I thought… I thought there was no way in hell he was actually a kid."

"So why did you break into the Justice League?" Parker asked, sucking on a lollipop that nobody was exactly sure where it had come from.

"Wilson called me. He said Gray was on a job that went wrong, he needed immediate evac or he'd be going to prison for the rest of his life. I… I know I shouldn't have, but I… Wilson was a fri—look, I've known him for a long time. And I never had a reason not to trust him, and I didn't want to abandon Gray. So I did what I had to and got him out."

"When did you know who he was?"

"I didn't know Gray was Richard Grayson until Wayne did that interview with Cat Grant. I swear, I didn't know."

"Where are they now?"

"I don't know. I talked to Gray a couple days after it happened and he was having fun messing with me. Look, I might be the only person that knows both of them, and I don't have a freaking clue about what's going on with them. For all I knew, Gray wanted to be there."

"He's a good actor." Selina said quietly.

"That was the last time I talked to him. I haven't heard anything from them in a couple months. I don't know where they are. I… I don't."

The pub was silent for a few long moments. Hardison frowned, his hands squeezed into tight fists as he looked away from his crew like he couldn't stand to see the disappointment in their eyes. Selina didn't blame him; the looks they were giving him weren't pretty.

"So. How do we stop him?" Nate asked.

"We don't." Elliot said. Parker frowned in confusion.

"What? He must have some weakness, I mean, everyone does! Like how Sophie has shoes and Nate has alcohol and you have models and—"

"This isn't the kind of guy you stop, Parker! This is the kind of guy you stay the hell away from. You can't fight him, you can't steal from him, and you can't out-think him."

Nate set his whiskey glass down a little too hard, a little too much aggravation behind the hard lines on his face.

"You see, Elliot, that's not good enough. You know why? Because there's a kid's life on the line here, and we are not going to let him get away with this."

"Look, Nate, I know how hard you take it when kids are involved, and believe me, I would like nothing more than to rip this guy's head off. But if we go after the Terminator, he will kill us. I can't protect all four of you, not from him."

"Uh, Catwoman? Ma'am?" Hardison interrupted quietly, not taking his eyes off the glaring match that had erupted between the mastermind and the hitter. "Can I talk to you over there for a second?"

Selina nodded and followed him to the alcove at the back of the restaurant. Hardison swallowed and twisted his hands together nervously.

"Uh, so there's…" Hardison started, trying to figure out how to get the words out. "…you know about the Watchtower and… that stuff that happened? And uh… who… did it."

Selina's face froze. She wasn't surprised that Hardison knew Dick was Robin. She just didn't know what he intended to do with the information.

"I do." She said carefully. Hardison licked his lips, glancing over Selina's shoulder to where the rest of the crew was sitting. They were clearly all watching the two of them, but out of respect for Selina, kept their distance.

"I didn't tell them." Hardison said. "I figured that's not my secret to let out."

Selina let out a huff of air.

"I appreciate that," she frowned. "How long have you known?"

"I didn't!" Hardison blurted defensively. "Not until… when Wilson reached out, he said it was an emergency. Gray was trapped on the Watchtower, he needed a way off. I got control of the system and the cameras, and then suddenly I was watching Robin break into the Justice League's headquarters. I didn't have any idea, I swear. I mean, I thought Gray was younger, but I didn't know he was a kid, let alone… I'm so stupid. I…"

Hardison cut off as his phone chirped loudly. He held up a finger, the look on his face turning into confused panic.

"That's a bad sound. That's bad. I gotta…"

Selina nodded and stepped back as the hacker pulled out his phone at the speed of light.

"Oh SHIT."

"What?"

Hardison turned the phone around and Selina's jaw dropped.

"Oh crap." She muttered.

"That's… that's not really him, is it?"

Selina looked at the screen, picking out all the little details a copycat would miss; Spitcurl's signature curl, the crows' feet under his eyes, and the tiny scar on his jaw from a stray kryptonite shard. She let out a hard breath of air, her stomach sinking.

"It's him. But something's wrong."

"Uh, yeah, you don't say!" Hardison half-shouted nervously. Elliot and Parker looked over at the shout.

"What's going on?" Elliot called.

"Oh nothing." Hardison answered, pressing his lips together and nodding nervously. "Just the threat of planetary annihilation."

"I need to get back to Gotham." Selina said. "I'll be in touch as soon as I can. Whatever you end up doing, do not let Wilson know that you're looking for him. He trusts you right now, and that's an advantage we can't afford to lose."

"Uh, yeah. Sure. Right." Hardison said nervously. "Uh… you don't… do you think… Superman's not really gonna…"

"Alec." Selina said firmly, putting a hand on his shoulder the way she did when Tim had a nightmare. "It's going to be okay. Superman is not going to destroy the planet."

And if he was going to, Selina thought to herself, there wasn't exactly anything Hardison would be able to do about it.

* * *

Vandal Savage

The Watchtower

* * *

Vandal surveyed his conquest, the victorious gleam in his eyes strengthening with every prisoner he walked past. Most of the Justice League's members were still unconscious, but Hawkwoman was awake and thrashing against the restraints. She growled when she made eye contact with Vandal, snarling at him through the reinforced glass.

The Justice League's headquarters had already been well-equipped to house prisoners, to Vandal's great delight. The added measures his drones had installed would make the already formidable cells inescapable.

"My dear Sheyara," Vandal stepped forward, shaking his head in disappointment. "I think you'll find it wise to conserve your energy."

"What did you do to Superman?!" The alien demanded, leaning forward as far as the restrains would allow her. Given the way she flinched as the bindings tightened around her wings, that motion was not nearly as far as she would have liked. A pity. Of course, that flinch could have been owed to the numerous injuries that were evident, or possibly the unnatural bend in her blood-covered wing. The heroes had put up a valiant fight, as Vandal knew they would.

"We've simply encouraged him to embrace the Light, as the rest of you will learn to do."

"I'll hold my breath." Hawkwoman spat. Vandal smiled at the passion in her voice. Unfortunately, he couldn't stay to enjoy her company any longer.

"If you'll excuse me, my dear, I'm afraid I have other matters to attend to." Vandal said smoothly.

"Don't call me that, you piece of shit." Hawkwoman growled. Vandal inclined his head at her and moved on, leaving her to struggle in vain. He strode down the hallway, passing yet more unconscious, helpless heroes until he reached his destination.

The cell door was wide open, but Savage chose to stop just beyond the enclosure.

"Well, look who finally made it." Klarion snarked, rubbing a hand over Teekl's fur when the cat let out a hiss. Vandal shared the creature's sentiment; he'd never cared for cats any more than they cared for him.

"We can't all run around at fleeting whims." Vandal responded imperiously. Klarion made a face at him and they both turned to the cell's other occupants. Ivo was muttering nonsense to himself as he hovered over the restrained robot, pressing keys and adjusting wires. Vandal Savage never claimed to understand technology, but then again, he didn't need to. That's what Ivo was for. "How is your project coming?"

"Very promising. Just a few more minutes to dissolve Morrow's pathetic safeguards, giving me full access to all his systems." Ivo responded.

"Warning; attempts to alter my internal programming will be met with hostile force." Red Tornado rattled as Ivo attached yet another cable to his frame.

"Oh, you can try." Ivo clucked, shaking his head. "A shame; Morrow left so little of his work behind to remind us how pathetic he was. Ah, well."

"Can you reprogram the stupid thing or not?" Klarion demanded impatiently.

"Indeed I can," Ivo responded. He cracked his neck and shook out his fingers. "Deconstructing Morrow's lifework has been one of my favorite pastimes these last few months in prison. A place where, I might add, I only remained in because you and your friends didn't see fit to release me sooner."

Vandal fought the urge to roll his eyes, but Klarion saw no need to restrain himself.

"I'm sorry, do you want an apology?" Klarion sneered. On his shoulder, Teekl let out a hiss. Ivo chuckled.

"Save us all the trouble." Ivo turned back to Red Tornado, surveying the robot. Vandal noted the sound of gears and joints creaking as the robot attempted to free itself. "It's almost a shame to destroy it. Eighty years of a machine thinking it's a man; imagine the research that could be performed on non-organic psychology. No matter, all progress comes with a price."

"Do not." Red Tornado boomed, his voice approximating something that might have been called panic. If Vandal cared at all about technology or its progress, he might've been impressed that the robot was capable of imitating emotion so well. Ivo patted the robot's cheek in a mockery of affection.

"Don't worry. It's not like you're going to _feel_ anything. Goodbye, Tornado."

* * *

Artemis Crock

* * *

"Thank you all for coming." Kaldur said. Conner sat across from him and Artemis slid into the booth next to Conner while Zatanna took the open seat next to Kaldur. Artemis glanced around the restaurant, her stomach clenching when all she could think about was the last time the team had gone out to eat together.

God, it felt like a million years since the Reds had stormed the cave and nearly killed them all. She remembered how messed up they'd all been, how terrified out of her mind she'd been when she was the only thing standing between her teammates and certain death.

She almost let out a laugh at the thought of it. Yeah, things had been bad then, but Artemis had no idea how much worse they'd get. There'd been so many betrayals and secrets and fuck-ups, plus they'd all almost died more times than Artemis could remember.

Still, the last time they'd been at the dinner it had been the six of them. Four wasn't that much fewer than six, but without the rest of their teammates—Wally and M'gann and… and Dick—the booth felt disturbingly empty.

"Of course." Conner answered.

"It's been so weird not seeing you guys at the cave every day." Zatanna said, trying to disguise the sadness with anything else and failing miserably.

"You haven't made other living arrangements?" Kaldur asked. The frown on his face deepened and Zatanna looked away with a too-casual shrug.

"All my stuff is there." Zatanna said evasively. "It's… you know, it's home now. M'gann's not around much these days, but, uh… Canary's there a lot. Other than that, it's just me and Tornado."

Silence followed. Zatanna cleared her throat, trying to fight back the blush of embarrassment.

"What about you, Conner?"

"I've been staying with family." Conner said after a pause. "It's different. Not bad, uh… I've got more space to work on some projects and Wolf has a lot of room to run around."

"That sounds nice." Artemis smiled. Conner was spared having to say anything else when the waitress walked over.

"Hey there, I'm Linda, I'll be taking your orders. What can I get you kids?" The waitress asked with a big smile on her face, holding a pen to the pad of paper in her hands.

"Cheeseburger with fries and a chocolate milkshake." Artemis ordered first.

"Same as her." Conner nodded.

"Great, and for you?"

"The vegetable burger, please. Nothing on the side." Kaldur ordered. Artemis raised an eyebrow at him and he ignored her.

"Good choice, the veggie burgers are my favorite! Well, they're all my favorites, but the veggie burgers are great!" Linda scribbled the order on the pad and looked at Zatanna. "And what can I get you?"

"Can I have the special?" Zatanna asked, pointing to the hand-drawn chalkboard behind the counter. Linda glanced at it and beamed.

"One 'Eggers can't be cheesers' coming up. Anything else?"

"I believe we are set. Thank you."

"Anytime! I'll be back with some waters for you."

Conner crossed his arms on the table and leaned forward. He cut right to the chase with his usual bluntness.

"So I take it you didn't just ask us to come here for the burgers?"

Kaldur sighed heavily.

"I'm leaving." Kaldur said.

"What?" Conner asked.

"What do you mean, you're leaving?!" Artemis exclaimed while Zatanna's jaw dropped. "Kaldur, you can't leave!"

"I appreciate the sentiment," Kaldur smiled sadly and there was something in his eyes that made Artemis stop. She knew that look, and unlike the last time she saw it, she knew what it was. It was the exact same hopelessness she'd seen on Dick's face the day before Winter Break. "But it's time."

"What happened?" Artemis demanded.

"Nothing." Kaldur responded quietly. His mouth twitched at the disbelieving look on Artemis' face in a way that could have been a fond smile if he didn't look so sad. "It's just time."

"You can't leave!" Zatanna exclaimed.

"The arrangements have already been made." Kaldur shook his head. "I wanted to wish my friends well before I left."

"That's bullshit."

"Artemis." Kaldur said gently.

"Don't 'Artemis' me, you can't sit there looking like someone killed your pet fish and then say nothing's wrong." The look on Kaldur's face didn't budge, and Artemis took a deep breath before jamming a finger onto the table for emphasis. "Look. The last time I saw one of my friends look that sad, I didn't do anything. I left him alone and I figured he would figure it out on his own. And look how well that worked out for Dick."

All three of them winced; in Kaldur's case, he just shut his eyes.

"If you think there's any way in hell I'm losing another friend, you're dead wrong. Tell us what's wrong."

"I don't think that's—"

"Please." Artemis frowned. Kaldur held out for a few seconds before he slumped.

"I don't believe that I can do this anymore." Kaldur said. "Life on the surface world has turned out to be… difficult in ways I never could have predicted. I feel as though every choice I make just complicates thing further. You made me your leader, and the League expects me to be responsible for you, but most days I feel as though I am being crushed by the weight on my shoulders."

"Kaldur, that's terrible." Conner frowned. "I didn't know you felt like that."

"There have been so many secrets and so many lies. So much pain caused by ones I trusted."

Conner winced. Artemis saw him do it, but it seemed like a bad idea to ask right this second.

"In any case, I have come to realize that the surface world is not where I belong. I…" Kaldur trailed off before shaking his head. "I will not burden you with my problems any further."

"Kal." Zatanna looked aghast.

"Do you think you're burdening us?" Artemis asked, feeling more like Black Canary than she ever had.

"I know that I am."

"Who told you that?" Conner demanded.

"No one."

"Holy shit." Artemis realized suddenly. "Roy said that to you?"

"No, he…" Kaldur stopped. His shoulders slumped forward, the weight of the world dragging them down. "Yes."

"That's it. I don't care that we called a truce, I'm going to go kick his ass."

"Artemis, please. My decision has been made. All I ask is that I can enjoy your company for one last time before I depart."

Artemis sat back against the booth, her heart pounding. There were a million things she wanted to say, but none of them would come out. What the hell was she supposed to say to that?!

"Here you go, two cheeseburgers, a veggie burger and a special. Anything else?" Linda the waitress appeared with their plates, saving Artemis from having to figure out the answer.

"We are fine, thank you." Kaldur answered. When she was gone, Kaldur gestured at their plates. "The food is very good here."

"It looks good." Zatanna said awkwardly. The rest of the meal passed with awkward, stilted small talk. Nobody wanted to upset anyone else, but there was so much that went unsaid that there was practically a storm cloud hanging over their table.

Artemis tried to think of anything she could say that would change Kaldur's mind; they needed him here! Aqualad was the team's leader, sure, but he was their friend. He belonged here on the surface world. Roy was a piece of shit, and on top of that, he was an idiot for treating Kaldur so badly. There had to be something that would convince Kaldur he was making the wrong choice. That he needed to stay.

A trio of kids came bursting out of the kitchen suddenly, shouting over each over as they threw themselves at the waitress.

"Mom!" The boy shouted, grabbing onto Linda's hand. "Mom! Mom!"

"WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!" One of the girls shouted, sounding half-panicked and half-excited. Her pink hat flopped from side to side as she jumped up and down.

"What? What? What's wrong?!" Linda asked as the kids swarmed her.

"Superman went evil!"

"He's gonna destroy the planet if we don't make him supreme ruler of everything," the older girl said plainly, sounding amazingly calm for the insanity of the words coming out of her mouth.

"Well that doesn't sound like him!" Linda exclaimed.

Artemis froze, looking at her teammates in horror. As one, the four of them dove for their phones. Artemis' jaw dropped when every news alert announced the same thing; Superman declares himself Supreme Ruler.

"Ycavirp neercs!" Zatanna chanted, and the air around them shimmered for a second. "What the hell is going on?!"

"I haven't gotten any messages from the League." Artemis said, scrolling through her phone to see if she'd somehow missed something.

"And there was nothing on my communicator." Kaldur said. The team's leader was all business now that the world was in danger. And shit, if Superman had actually just threatened to take over the world or destroy it, the world was in a LOT of danger.

"What are we supposed to do?!" Zatanna freaked. Artemis reached across the table to put squeeze the younger girl's hand.

"It's going to be okay. We'll figure it out, but panicking isn't going to help anything." Artemis said, trying to remember the way Robin had sounded so sure of himself when he'd said, "Get traught, or get dead."

Shit, was this how he'd felt then?

"Where's the League?" Conner asked.

"I can't contact any of them." Kaldur shook his head.

"Let me try." Zatanna pulled out her own communicator.

"Wait." Artemis said. "This could be a trap. If the League is compromised, using our comms will just tell them exactly where we are."

Kaldur frowned and set his comm down carefully.

"I believe we should relocate."

"Good idea." Conner nodded. They all stood and Kaldur dropped a thick wad of bills on the table as they left their half-eaten food behind. As they left the restaurant, all four of their communicators chimed at the same time. Artemis looked down and her jaw dropped.

Robin was on the line.

"What the hell?" Zatanna stopped outside the door, staring down at her comm.

"This has to be a trap, right?" Artemis asked. Kaldur frowned.

"Almost definitely." Conner agreed.

"Great. Any objections?"

"Do it, but be cautious." Kaldur nodded. Artemis took a breath and answered the comm call.

"Is anyone there?!" The voice on the other end was most definitely not Dick's.

"Who is this?" Artemis asked.

"Artemis!" A new voice burst in, the sounded flooded with relief. This voice, Artemis knew.

"Babs?!"

"It's Batgirl. Are you safe? Is anyone else with you?"

"I'm safe. Where are you?"

"That's not important. Look, the League has been captured. They're being held in the Watchtower. Something's wrong with Superman! He and the Flash—"

"—and Roy—" the other voice interrupted.

"Went crazy. They let a bunch of bad guys onto the Watchtower and everyone on the League is either unconscious or under their control." Batgirl finished.

"How do you know this?"

"I hacked the Batcomputer. It's still got a piggyback onto the satellite that houses the League's mainframe."

"You hacked the mainframe?" Zatanna asked.

"I'm not as good as…" Batgirl trailed off, and they all knew who she was talking about. "But I got in. Robin and I can help you."

"Robin?" Artemis asked slowly, wincing at the pained expression on her teammates' faces.

"Yeah. You have a problem with that?" The unfamiliar voice demanded.

"Jason." Kaldur's voice was steady, but Artemis almost took a step back from the intensity of the look on his face. "I cannot allow you to do that. It is far too dangerous."

"So is doing nothing and letting the planet be destroyed!" Jason retorted. Artemis blinked when she finally placed the name, the realization hitting her like a brick to the face. Dick had four siblings; Jason was his younger brother. "Everyone who's supposed to keep us safe is trapped on the Watchtower or they're already being mind-controlled! I'm not going to just sit back and wait for the world to end!"

"Jason, please." Kaldur repeated.

"My dad is up there, okay?! They have Batman! They have aun—Wonder Woman too! If we don't do something, they're all gonna die and I am NOT LOSING ANYONE ELSE!"

Kaldur heaved a sigh, his hand scrubbing over his face. Artemis couldn't bring herself to break the silence. Jason was right; they had less than 48 hours to free Superman from whoever was mind-controlling him and stop him from destroying the planet. But Kaldur was right too. This was going to be the most dangerous mission they'd ever been on.

"Say we do this. How are the six of us supposed to stop Superman and the Flash and whoever else managed to take down the ENTIRE JUSTICE LEAGUE?!" Zatanna pointed out, derailing an argument they really didn't have time for.

"Wait, six? Don't you mean eight?" Batgirl asked. Artemis and Conner looked at each other, and Artemis felt a pang of guilt.

"No." Kaldur said.

"She's right." Artemis shook her head. "I know you're mad at them, but the entire Justice League is down for the count. We need all the help we can get."

"Very well." Kaldur agreed stiffly. It was a testament to how bad things were that he let up so easily. "Have them meet us at..."

"Meet us in Gotham." Jason—the new Robin- said. "There's a safehouse near the harbor where we can come up with a plan."

Batgirl sent the coordinates across before ending the call. Conner was the first one to break the silence.

"You guys take Sphere. I have to make a call first, but I'll meet you there." Conner said.

"Who are you calling?"

"Backup." Conner answered. "Look, I'll explain it when they get here, okay?"

"Very well." Kaldur said, but he really didn't look happy about it.

* * *

Wally was expecting her call; he didn't make a big deal out of it, he didn't say anything about the fact that they'd clearly been left out of the loop, he just listened when she told him the address and said he and M'gann would meet them there. He also offered to pick up her costume and her fully stocked quiver without her even having to ask.

The two of them were waiting in the safehouse when Sphere arrived, along with Batgirl and the newly-minted Robin. Jason was taller than Artemis expected him to be; if she hadn't known Dick as well as she did, she wasn't sure that she would have been able to tell that this was a different Robin at all. At least, from a distance.

As soon as the three of them walked in, Kaldur stopped dead. Zatanna looked back and forth, watching the way M'gann shifted uncomfortably but stayed silent. Artemis crossed the room and pecked Wally on the cheek before accepting her uniform and weapons.

"I'm going to go change." She announced to the silent room. "If you're going to tear each other's heads off, at least wait until I get back."

To her relief (and shock), everything was calm when she returned. It was still horribly awkward, but the standoff between Kaldur, M'gann and Wally had ended. Small victories.

"Perimeter alert." Batgirl announced suddenly, and everyone was instantly on guard. Miss Martian relaxed a second later.

"It's Superboy."

It was Superboy, and he'd brought friends. On his left was a woman with short blonde hair and a hastily assembled costume that looked like she'd chopped up Superman's costume and put it back together with her eyes closed. It was actually kind of cool. But it was the boy on Superboy's right that had Artemis staring in shock. He looked identical to Conner in every way, except that where Conner was wearing a black t-shirt and cargo pants, he was wearing a spike-studded leather jacket, a blue-and-red bodysuit, and four-inch-tall combat heels. The right side of his head was shaved, the rest of his hair falling to the opposite side.

Artemis blinked. Punk Superboy. That was not something she was ever expecting to see.

"It's not just me, right?" Zatanna asked. "You all see the other Superboy?"

"Ahuh." Kid Flash nodded.

"Guys, this is Cameron and Kara. Cam, Kara, this is the team." Conner introduced them.

"I take it Cadmus was busier than we were led to believe." Aqualad said, his voice sounding strained.

"Cameron is. Kara is—"

"I'm Superman's cousin. Technically, I'm his older cousin, but the Phantom Zone is kind of a weird place."

"Okay. Sure." Batgirl nodded, taking it in stride while everyone else kept staring. "That's cool. So we might have a chance at not immediately being destroyed. That's great, actually. Is this everyone?"

"I believe so. Unless there are any other last-minute surprises?" Aqualad asked rhetorically. "In any case, the floor is yours."

"So, here's the plan." Batgirl began, pointing at the screen she'd pulled up. "We figured out that this guy is the one calling all the shots."

She pointed at the screen and Artemis frowned.

"Vandal Savage. Haven't seen him since he tried to murder Perdita." Kid Flash said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Not surprising he's been waiting for something big."

"He's not the only one. This guy took over the communications center; I've had to pull back most of the surveillance capabilities so he doesn't figure out we have eyes on them. It looks like there's some kind of robot guarding him."

"Ivo." Conner frowned. "Looks like he fixed AMAZO."

"Dammit." Artemis swore.

"Uh, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that's bad," Cameron said, looking a little bit lost.

"AMAZO is a self-improving android with the ability to learn from its opponents and replicate their abilities."

"Okay, so whatever our plan is, the three of us shouldn't go anywhere near him." Kara pointed at Conner and Cameron in turn.

"That would be wise." Aqualad agreed.

"We're not sure how they're controlling Superman and the others, but hopefully if we can take down Savage, it'll weaken the control enough for them to break free."

"That's not going to work." Miss Martian frowned.

"It has to." Batgirl shook her head.

"No, Meg's right. It's the chips. Remember after New Orleans, we brought back an entire case full of them. Enough to chip everyone in the League and all of us. It's not going to be that easy to break their control." Kid Flash said.

"Then how do we break it?" Superboy asked.

"Where's my uncle?" Miss Martian broke the silence, turning towards Batgirl. Batgirl raised her glove and pulled up a holocomputer like the one Robin used; it took Artemis a second to realize that it was actually Robin's old gloves.

"He's in one of the cells." Batgirl finally answered. Miss Martian nodded.

"We don't know exactly how the chips work, but if we can free Uncle J'onn, the two of us might be able to break through their control."

"Then that's our objective. We must remove Superman from Savage's control. If that is not possible, we must subdue him."

"Leave that to us." Superboy said. Kara and Cameron nodded emphatically.

"Good." Aqualad turned to the rest of them. "The rest of us must free the League, take down AMAZO, and defeat Savage. Batgirl, Robin, you'll go with—" Aqualad paused, not for very long, but for long enough that it was impossible to ignore his hesitation. "Miss Martian to free the League. Artemis, you're with them."

"Right." Artemis nodded, pretending not to notice the way M'gann flinched. She didn't blame her; it was killing Artemis to see Kaldur treat their teammates so coldly, and she wasn't even one of the people he was mad at.

"No matter what happens, your priority is to keep each other safe, and avoid capture. Do you understand?"

"Of course." Miss Martian answered softly. Aqualad couldn't meet her eyes, and he took a second to steel himself before looking at Zatanna.

"Zatanna, you and Kid Flash are with me. We will handle AMAZO."

"Wait, if the three of you take AMAZO, who's supposed to deal with Savage?" Batgirl asked.

"We will deal with him once the other threats have been dispatched." Aqualad said.

"He's the most dangerous person on the Watchtower right now! We have to deal with him first!"

"Very well. I will handle Savage. The rest of you have your assignments."

"Then I'm helping them with AMAZO." Batgirl stood firm, putting her hands on her hips. Zatanna and Kid Flash froze, looking at Aqualad to see how he'd react to her announcement.

"Absolutely not."

"We don't have time to argue." Batgirl snapped, throwing her hands out to the sides. "I know it's dangerous, okay? But if we can't stop this, the entire planet is either going to be destroyed or trapped under Savage's control."

Aqualad sighed, but he nodded.

"How are we going to get onto the Watchtower?" Kid Flash asked.

"They're going to be watching the zeta beams; if we come through that way, they'll pick us off as soon as we get there." Superboy agreed.

"We'll take the bioship." Miss Martian said.

"We're going to need a distraction. Something to keep their attention off the ship to ensure they don't notice our arrival."

"Leave it to me." Kara said. "I'll go through the zeta and draw out as many of them as I can. If I can get Kal to follow me, it'll give you guys more room to work with."

"That is wise." Aqualad agreed. He looks around at the assembled group. "Any questions?"

Everyone stayed quiet.

"We leave in ten minutes."

Aqualad stepped outside once everyone nodded their agreement, seizing his chance to get some air and center himself. Artemis sat against the wall, double checking her arsenal and making sure her arrows were properly prepared. She saw M'gann approach Conner, looking nothing like her usual confident self.

"Conner, I… I'm so sorry." M'gann said, tears welling up in her eyes. "I never meant to lie to you, and I never wanted any of this to happen, I… I'm sorry."

"I know you didn't." Conner's voice was quiet. Artemis suddenly realized that she was intruding on a private moment, but she couldn't tear herself away. M'gann sniffed, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.

"I guess I know what you've been doing the last few months," M'gann offered him a watery smile as she glanced over at Cameron. "I can't… imagine that was easy."

"It was worth it." Conner answered simply. M'gann's smile faltered as she looked back at Conner.

"I missed you so much."

"Me too."

They both hesitated for a second before M'gann threw herself at Conner, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face against his chest. Conner pulled her close, squeezing his eyes shut and leaning his face down to press against her hair.

Artemis jumped when something squeezed her hand.

"Are you ready?" Wally asked her.

"Not even a little."

"Me neither."

* * *

Conner Kent

Tuesday, March 21st, 2013

* * *

"Recognized; controlled access exemption D-05." The zeta-log announced as the blinding light faded. The figure shot into the air, dodging the projectiles that sped toward them the instant they appeared.

"Kal-El!" Supergirl thundered, hovering in the air just beyond the Flash's reach. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"You have no business here. Leave immediately or be destroyed." Superman responded, his eyes glowing red before she could even consider leaving. Supergirl countered his burst of heat vision with a blast of her own. Then she pulled back and grinned.

"Make me."

She ducked another bust of heat vision and barely had time to straighten before Superman was on top of her. They exchanged blows at superspeed, trading punches too fast for the human eye to follow. Superman's leg shot up and nailed Supergirl in the stomach, throwing her into the wall with a crash. Before he could follow up the blow, Conner leapt from his hiding place to strike him in the back, right between his shoulder blades. Superman stumbled, and that was all the time Supergirl needed to climb back to her feet, brushing the rubble off her costume.

Superman turned, fury blazing in his eyes. Before he could move, a new voice rang out.

"Hey dad! Remember how you said we should do more family bonding?" Cameron asked, flying forward to land a punch on Superman's jaw. His fist landed in the center of his cheek, and Superboy could see the flesh rippling as Superman staggered under the force of the blow. "How 'bout we just go camping next time?"

The Flash sped forward, using his momentum to slam Cameron out of the way. Immediately, Supergirl turned and took a huge breath before blowing hard and encasing the Flash in a solid layer of ice. Superboy pulled Cam back to his feet, standing between Superman and the now-frozen Flash.

"It's too cramped in here!" Superboy told Cam. "We have to take this outside."

Superman charged forward and Superboy met the attack, grabbing Superman's fists and locking two of them together.

"Is he going to be okay like that?!" Supergirl asked, checking her handiwork to make sure the speedster wouldn't be able to break free. Conner gritted his teeth and dug his heels in, focusing on the sound of the Flash's heartbeat. It was slower than usual but completely steady.

"He'll be fine." Superboy answered confidently. "Get Superman back to Earth."

"Right." His cousin nodded. Supergirl launched herself forward, grabbing Superman around the waist and slamming him backwards out of the hangar. Cameron shot into the air, zooming after them as they hurtled towards the Atlantic Ocean.

Superboy stopped. He couldn't follow them, not without…

It was a terrible idea. But he didn't know if the two of them would be able to stop him; neither of them had much fighting experience, and Superman wasn't himself. He didn't care about hurting anyone; not Kara or Cam, not himself, and definitely not any innocent bystanders that might get in the way.

Superboy reached into his pocket and pulled out the case Luthor had given him. This was an emergency; it wasn't like he had any other choice. He had to get down there so he could stop Superman.

Conner suddenly had a horrible realization that this was, in a way, exactly what he'd been made for. The Light wanted a weapon that could take down Superman if he ever strayed from them. The only difference was that he was trying to help Superman, not destroy him.

Superboy opened the case, pulled out one of the remaining shields, and pressed it onto his arm. It burned like it always did, his blood starting to pound the instant it touched his skin. The world around him got louder as his hearing enhanced, and he felt lighter as gravity lost its meaning. He narrowed his eyes, focusing on the comet hurtling towards the planet's surface as Kara and Cameron tackled Superman.

Superboy knelt on the ground, gathering energy before blasting off the Watchtower at supersonic speed.

* * *

Artemis Crock

* * *

"Supergirl has engaged. We're clear for entry." Aqualad said. The bioship docked underneath the meteor the Watchtower had been built into. The team crawled through the access hatch and picked their way through the tunnel until they were standing in the hallway of the lowest floor.

"Sync up your comms." Aqualad ordered, and as one, they all activated their comms. "Is everyone clear on their job?"

He was met with a chorus of yesses, and nodded.

"Good luck. I will see you all shortly, when this mess is over."

Artemis and her squad turned to go, but Batgirl grabbed Robin's wrist before he could take more than a step. Artemis knew her friend well enough to see how nervous she was, but Batgirl's face was set in pure determination.

"See you soon." Batgirl said. Robin nodded. Artemis' stomach curled, suddenly nervous. Barbara was new, far newer than Artemis had been when she'd gone up against AMAZO the first time. But Barbara didn't have any of the training Artemis had, and she definitely hadn't been raised to be an assassin from birth the way Artemis had.

But before she could say anything, Batgirl, Kid Flash and Zatanna were gone. Artemis forced herself to look away. Barbara would be fine. She had to be. Because the thought of anything happening to her was unthinkable.

Artemis tightened her grip on her bow, nodded, and followed Miss Martian and Robin toward the cell blocks. She didn't know what she was expecting, but it definitely wasn't row after row of empty cells. At the very end of the hall, the last cell was shut and the room was dark.

Robin dug a flashlight out of his utility belt and clicked it on.

"AH!" He jumped back as the light glinted off something sharp and metallic, illuminating narrowed eyes and a row of bared teeth. But Artemis recognized the mask.

"Hawkwoman!" Artemis exclaimed, running up to the glass. "What happened? Where's everyone else?"

"It's a trap!" Hawkwoman's voice emerged from the darkness, the sound tight with pain. "Get out, now!"

The lights turned on suddenly, and Artemis blinked at the sight of row after row of hero, surrounding them on all sides. At the back, Psimon chuckled darkly, a strange red glow emanating from his head that looked like it was courtesy of Klarion.

"Of course you little brats would show up." Klarion sneered. His attention locked on Robin with a snarl, "And you! Do you have any idea how much work your little stunt made for me?! This was supposed to be the easy part, now I have to puppet all these idiots on my own!"

Psimon scowled. Teekl let out a low mrowl, and Klarion rolled his eyes. "Yes, fine, he helped. But I did most of it! No, I did not! Teekl! GAH, just get rid of them!" Klarion shrieked.

"It will be my pleasure," Psimon let out a low chuckle, raising his hands. As one, the mind-controlled Leaguers looked up, focusing in on the three of them. Klarion stomped his foot on the ground and then he and Teekl disappeared in a glow of red light.

"Robin." Artemis breathed, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Yeah?" Robin asked, the quake in his voice revealing how terrified he was.

"Run."

"Psimon says, GET THEM!"

* * *

Wally West

* * *

"Ah, I was hoping it'd be you, Flash boy. I've always enjoyed our spirited exchanges." Ivo grinned when the three of them approached the monitors set up in the middle of the room.

"Sorry, the feeling's not mutual." Kid Flash shot back.

"Have you met my newest toys?" Ivo asked, snapping his fingers. AMAZO stepped out from behind a stone pillar, looking exactly the same as he had the last time the team faced him.

"You call that new?" Kid Flash mocked. "You didn't even buff out the scratches from the last time we beat him."

"No, not him." Ivo grinned, and there was a whirling sound from above their heads. Kid Flash looked up to see a swirling red vortex descending, and at its center…

"Red Tornado!" Zatanna shouted. She whirled on Ivo furiously. "What did you do to him?!"

"I simply revamped his code. It needed it, and badly. It was so ancient it practically had cobwebs hanging off it."

"Tornado, it's us! Fight him!" Zatanna pleaded.

"I'm afraid that's hopeless, sweetheart." Ivo mocked. "Although, if it's a fight you want… AMAZO, Tornado, destroy them. Priority alpha."

Just like that, it was a fight for survival. Kid Flash dodged as Red Tornado blew past him, feeling the wind shoot through his hair. Batgirl shot off her grappling line and leaped into the air, swinging out of the way as AMAZO crashed into the ground where she'd been only seconds before. Red Tornado turned toward Kid Flash, hands raised as a massive vortex swirled up around him. Kid Flash was about to dodge when Batgirl cried, "Don't! AMAZO'll copy you!"

Kid Flash froze, accidentally giving Tornado an opening to throw him across the room. He hit the wall hard and grunted as the wind was knocked out of him.

"Kid Flash!" Zatanna called, running to his side.

"We have to regroup!" Batgirl said, launching a Batarang at AMAZO. It lodged in his arm and began beeping before the explosion knocked the robot back a few steps. Red Tornado launched a vortex across the room and Batgirl let out a yelp as it engulfed her.

"Part mih!" Zatanna chanted, and sections of the floor twisted back and wound themselves around the android, allowing the tornado to dissipate enough for Kid Flash to pull Batgirl loose.

"Go!" Zatanna shouted, and the three of them sprinted for the door.

"Leaving so soon?" Ivo mocked. "We certainly can't have that, can we?"

He pressed a button and panels on all the walls slid open, revealing electrical pylons that extended out and into the air. With another tap, electricity burst to life, surrounding the three of them in a sparking net of crackling energy.

"That's not good." Batgirl muttered.

"No, it is not." Zatanna agreed.

"Goes without saying, but don't touch those." Kid Flash said.

"Oh, you think?!" Zatanna and Batgirl shot back at the same time.

* * *

Artemis Crock

* * *

Robin lunged out of the way as Aquaman brought his trident down where he'd just been standing. Artemis shot an instant-freeze arrow that caught the Atlantean in the stomach. Massive icicles bloomed out from the arrowhead, quickly encasing him in ice from the chest down.

Miss Martian's hand shot out and a telekinetic wave shoved Wonder Woman into the wall before her sword could chop Artemis in half. Artemis returned the favor by shooting a flash-bang at one of the Green Lanterns that dissipated the giant sledgehammer about to collide with Miss Martian.

A Batarang sliced across Artemis' shoulder, not deep enough to leave more than a scratch. Artemis dove out of the way, barely in time to avoid Batman's heel.

Robin threw a pellet that exploded into a cloud of gas, creating a thick smokescreen that filled the air. Artemis scrambled back as she reached for another arrow, only getting a few steps before glowing green shackles appeared around her wrist. She pulled back, dropping her bow to grab the crossbow on her leg.

She fired two shots, nailing the Green Lantern's ring on the first and hitting him on the shoulder to knock him back. The shackle around her wrist disappeared and she scooped her bow off the ground. Captain Atom rushed toward her and Artemis called, "Maneuver three!"

Artemis dropped her weight and threw Captain Atom over her back, sending him directly into the path of Miss Martian's fist. He went down and didn't move, and Artemis and Miss Martian moved to cover Robin's back.

"How are we not dead yet?!"Robin hissed, his chest heaving with exhaustion. There was a shallow cut across his arm, and part of his cape had been torn off by Hawkman's mace, but other than that he was okay. Miss Martian's eyes glowed as she sent Captain Marvel crashing into Dr. Fate.

"They're under Psimon's control." Miss Martian answered, her eyes narrowed in concentration. Robin ducked under Plastic Man's fist, grabbing the limb and yanking it in the way of the arrow Green Arrow just fired at him. "He doesn't have their combat skills, just their powers."

A Canary scream knocked the three of them back, but Artemis managed to fire off a weighted net that crashed into her mentor, wrapping around her tightly as she hit the ground. Canary tried to scream again, but with her face aimed at the ground, the sound just bounced back at her.

Artemis tried to turn, but something caught her in an invisible grip.

"Miss Martian!" She shouted as the Martian Manhunter approached, still pinning her place. His eyes glowed green and suddenly, her head pounded like someone was taking a mallet to her skull from the inside. Artemis screamed as the pressure in her head exploded and the Martian Manhunter forced his way inside her mind. She fell to her knees, blinded by the pressure and the throbbing pain.

"Artemis!" Robin shouted, and out of the corner of her eye, she could see him hurling something at the Martian. A yellow and orange fireball exploded, heat blasting over her, so hot it scorched her skin.

But the discomfort was worth it when the Martian Manhunter screamed and the invasive presence in her mind dissipated like it had never been there. Artemis scrambled back, grabbing Robin's hand when he ran over to pull her to her feet.

All around them, the other mind-controlled League members had frozen, clutching their heads in pain.

"That's it!" Miss Martian exclaimed. "It's a mind-link! If we take out Uncle J'onn, the rest of the League goes down too!"

* * *

Wally West

* * *

"Can you make me a platform? I have to get up there." Batgirl said. Zatanna nodded.

"It won't last long."

"I don't need long. Kid Flash, can you keep them busy?"

Kid Flash frowned.

"I can buy you a few seconds, but you'll be sitting ducks if it goes wrong."

"A couple seconds is all I need!"

"On your mark." Kid Flash steadied himself, nodding at Batgirl.

"Kid Flash, come in!" Artemis's voice came over the comm line, sounding urgent.

"I'm here!"

"The rest of the League is being controlled! Klarion and Psimon are using Manhunter as a connection line. Miss M thinks she can break it with a big enough energy blast, but we're outnumbered!"

"What's going on?!" Batgirl demanded, throwing herself out of the way of a swirling red vortex. Tornado advanced, the wind whipping up around him making it hard for her to hold her ground.

"Change of plans!" Kid Flash told his teammates. "Artemis, if you can get them all to follow you up here, we can overcharge the zeta-particle generator with enough energy to trigger a mass-EMP."

"That's perfect!" Artemis exclaimed.

"How long will it take you to get up here?!"

"I don't know!"

"Shit!" Kid Flash swore, forcing himself to dive out of the way at a non-super speed as AMAZO slammed into the ground where he just was. They'd managed to keep the android from learning any of their powers, but if the entire League was about to show up, AMAZO would become a much, much bigger problem. "Guys, we have to stall. And when they get here, we're only going to get one chance before we're toast."

"Great." Batgirl launched an explosive Batarang at AMAZO, knocking the android back and giving Zatanna time to get clear.

"So basically, the usual stakes?" Zatanna had just enough time to shoot him a grin.

"Pretty much." Kid Flash answered.

"Yub su emit!" Zatanna chanted, and a sphere of light sprang up around the three out them. Outside the bubble, time seemed to slow down, even by Wally's standards. "This won't last long, but every second counts, right?"

"How many of them are coming?" Batgirl asked nervously.

"All of them." Kid Flash frowned.

* * *

Conner Kent

* * *

Superman was slowing down. The fight had been brutal, but even with no regard for his own well-being, Superman was getting tired facing three-on-one.

But even though he was tired, Superman matched the hit for every one they landed on him. Superboy kept finding openings, ready for the perfect strike to end this battle when Supergirl or Cameron got in the way.

He growled furiously as Cameron shot forward, getting the way again before Superboy could take advantage of Superman's focus on Supergirl.

Superman threw Cameron off, plunging him into the water below. A blast of heat vision caught Supergirl off-guard, and she shouted, reeling back. Superboy used the moment of distraction to catch Superman from behind, slamming him into the side of the nearby cliff with a roar. The resulting crash sent boulders crumbling down and a massive wave shot out with Superman at the center.

Superman dropped and Superboy shot after him, pummeling him with a barrage of blows when he got close enough. Sand blasted up around them as they hit the beach with the force of a bomb.

Superman was down.

"He's out." Supergirl said, sounding relieved as she landed on the beach behind them.

"Is he okay?" Cameron asked. Conner glared at Superman's body, his x-ray vision examining him for any broken bones or injuries. Finding nothing, Superboy nodded.

"I'll stay with him. The last thing we need is him getting loose." Kara offered, her chest heaving from exhaustion. Conner climbed off Superman and looked at his cousin. The black eye had swollen to cover most of her face, and she was covered in burns from Clark's heat vision. A chunk of hair had been chopped short on one side of her face, and it looked a little bit like Cam's side-cut. "You guys get back to the Watchtower. Call me when you figure out how to snap him out of it."

"Are you sure?" Cameron asked her. He didn't look much better. In comparison, Conner had come out mostly unscathed; apparently he'd had a lot more practice taking down people who were stronger than him.

"Go. It sounds like they need you."

Superboy nodded, but before he could take off, Cameron grabbed his wrist.

"What's going on with you?" Cameron asked.

"Let go!" Superboy snarled, trying to yank his wrist free but his twin held firm.

"What is that?!" Cameron pointed at the shield on his forearm, horror twisting across his face. Conner felt his heart pound with rage and he pulled himself free, pushing Cam back with his other hand.

"We don't have time for this! Now are you coming, or not?!" Superboy demanded, taking off before he could answer.

* * *

Kaldur'ahm

* * *

"I suppose this is the part where you boldly announce you've come to stop me." Vandal Savage said, not turning around as Aqualad pulled his water bearers.

"Your plans will not succeed."

"Do you truly believe you can stop what's coming?" Savage hummed, his voice filled with mockery. "You heroes are all the same; so focused on whatever gets set in front of you that you miss the bigger picture entirely."

"Do not lecture me on the bigger picture." Aqualad growled. "Your views of the world are warped and out of place."

"The League has poisoned your mind, Atlantean." Savage replied. "You have been indoctrinated into their ruinous philosophy, taught to believe that humanity needs your protection. In reality, you heroes are dooming mankind. Humanity must evolve, and I will see it come to pass."

"You will destroy everything." Aqualad warned.

"If that is what it takes, then so be it."

Aqualad charged forward, swinging his mace with two hands. Savage dodged the blow, and let the mace pass by when Aqualad swung it back.

Savage was a difficult opponent. Aqualad forced himself to keep pressing, to dictate the speed of the battle as Canary had taught him. Savage was fast and very capable of evading Aqualad's attacks.

So he fought dirty.

He brought his mace down, striking with two hands so that Savage would see an easy counterattack. When Savage raised his hands, Aqualad split his water bearers apart, his mace dissolving into matching swords. He jabbed forwards, letting electricity flow through his body and into Savage's.

With a roar, the villain stumbled back, one massive hand clutching the wounds on his chest. They wouldn't kill him; the immortal had and would survive far worse, but it was more than enough to make him angry.

That was good. Anger meant he would become sloppy, lose control. Aqualad doubted the man had much practice fighting another while he fought himself and he hoped that would be enough of an advantage for him to come out victorious.

Aqualad met Savage's furious gaze with as much calm as he could manage, allowing one of his water bearers to reform into a mace.

"You would fight without honor?" Vandal Savage spat.

"I believe you've long-since forgotten the meaning of that word." Aqualad cautioned.

Savage moved first, and for all that his anger made him sloppy, it also fueled the force behind each hit. Aqualad was forced onto the defenseive, blocking and dodging and countering attacks where he could. The immortal was fast enough that Aqualad was exhausted just trying to keep up, and his hits were strong enough to make his arms shake.

Aqualad spun out of a hold and used his momentum to swing his mace through the air, directly at Savage's face. Savage blocked the blow, grabbing Aqualad's wrist and twisting hard enough that he lost control and the mace dissolved back into water. But Savage didn't notice Aqualad's other hand flick out, the water whipping around his legs and pulling them together as the line went taut.

Aqualad's leg snapped up, slamming into Savage's chest hard enough to break the grip on his wrist and send the villain crashing to the ground. With a burst of magic, the water around his legs froze into ice, trapping them together and freezing them onto the ground.

"Accept your defeat." Aqualad commanded, forcing himself to ignore the throbbing pain from his wrist. With another pulse, the puddle of water on the ground jumped to Aqualad's call and reformed itself into a sword. Aqualad took the appropriate amount of satisfaction at digging it under the immortal's chin.

"You may wish to look behind you." Savage said, predatory viciousness burning in his eyes.

"Do you really believe I would fall for such a ploy?" Aqualad asked, right before something slammed into his and knocked him off his feet.

Aqualad struggled as he was pinned by his opponent, his eyes going wide when he realized who was on top of him. Red Arrow's eyes were narrowed, teeth clenched together as he held Aqualad down.

"Roy! Stop this!" Kaldur cried, heart pounding in his chest with something that hurt far worse than terror. "This is not you!"

There was no recognition in his boyfriend's eyes. Nothing beyond hostility and aggression.

"What have you done to him?!" Aqualad roared, fighting back a wave of nausea as Vandal Savage grinned down at them.

"Impressive, is it not? I suppose monologuing risks falling too far into overused tropes, but it is a shame that you will never understand the countless hours and grueling efforts that went into making this day a reality. Red Arrow here was the cornerstone; his mind was our greatest tool. Our greatest weapon and against you and your precious League."

"Roy, you must fight him! This is not you, I know you would never do this!"

"Did you really believe that would work?" Savage mocked, his voice dark and cruel. "He is mine. You are nothing to him. And your time has run out."

"Roy, please!" Kaldur begged.

"Kill him." Savage ordered.

Roy removed one of his hands to reach for something. Then he raised a blade above Kaldur's head and brought it down. In a burst of strength, Aqualad wrenched his wrist free and slammed his palm against Red Arrow's chest, channeling the strongest charge of electricity he could manage.

Red Arrow screamed as he spasmed, the knife dropping out of his hands as his body jerked around like a puppet on a string. His eyes rolled back into his head and then he collapsed; Aqualad caught him before he could hit the ground, fighting back a yell when blistering pain shot up his injured wrist. Aqualad took a few deep breaths to steady himself through the pain, cradling Roy's unconscious body close to his chest.

"Forgive me, Roy," he whispered, planting a soft kiss to his boyfriend's forehead. For a single moment, the world stood still.

"How touching." Vandal Savage sneered. Aqualad rose to his feet, retrieving his water bearers and turning towards opponent with rage burning in his heart.

"Will you face me now? Or will you continue to cower behind dirty ploys?" Aqualad snarled, positioning himself firmly between the villain and Red Arrow's unconscious body.

"Do you really think you have what it takes to defeat me, child?" Vandal Savage laughed, the sound echoing through the dark room. "I am Vandal Savage, the One True Witness, He Who Has Lived Ten Hundred Lifetimes. You are a mere speck of dust in the face of eternity."

"And yet, I have already bested you in combat." Aqualad raised his sword, poised to strike in an instant.

Savage chuckled again and the sound filled Aqualad with a rage the likes of which he'd never felt in his life.

"Would you like to know why you can never defeat me?" Vandal Savage mocked. Aqualad tightened his grip on his weapons as they circled each other. "It's because right at this very moment, your little teammates are surrounded and outnumbered. I'd estimate they have another five minutes before they're overwhelmed."

"You're lying."

"Perhaps." Savage grinned, baring all his teeth. "But are you willing to stake their lives on it?"

* * *

Artemis Crock

* * *

Artemis sprinted down the hallway, shooting arrows behind her when their attackers got too close. Robin rounded the corner first, Miss Martian flying alongside him.

"We're almost there!" Miss Martian called into the comm.

"Anytime now!" Kid Flash shouted back.

A whirling sound appeared behind them, and Artemis turned her head to see Aqualad cutting his way through the ranks of mind-controlled Leaguers.

"Aqualad, this way!" she shouted, shooting a flashbang into the crowd to buy him time to catch up to her. The two of them raced down the hall, side by side, the entirety of the League just steps behind them. "We have a plan! When she gives the signal, cover Batgirl."

"Understood."

The doors to the main room had been blasted off their hinges, and the scene in front of them was something out of a battlefield. Their teammates were fighting for their lives as AMAZO and Tornado launched a barrage of attacks. The odds got a hell of a lot worse when another dozen mind-controlled heroes charged in behind her and Aqualad.

If Batgirl's plan didn't work, Artemis had just killed her team.

"Group up!" Kid Flash shouted and Artemis sprinted towards her teammates, ducking projectiles and arrows and leaping out of the way of Wonder Woman's lasso. She felt Kid Flash at her back and had just enough time to squeeze his hand before throwing herself out of the way of Hawkman's mace.

"Now!" Batgirl shouted. Zatanna cast a spell, causing glowing tiles to appear in thin air, hovering over everyone's heads. Batgirl took two steps and vaulted over Captain Atom, using the momentum to flip into the air and land on the lowest tile. She charged up the magical steps, somehow keeping her balance while Green Arrow shot projectiles and Batman launched a slew of Batarangs. Aqualad's water whip snatched most of them out of the way, and Punk Superboy's heat vision blasted the rest out of existence. Batgirl reached the zeta-particle generator at the very top of the massive room. That was Artemis' cue to notch her arrow and let it fly; the explosive detonated at the Martian Manhunter's feet, causing flames to encircle him.

At the same time, Kid Flash and Superboy charged Psimon, dodging the crowd of mind-controlled Leaguers to grab him by the arms and force him still as Miss Martian's form bubbled and shifted until an enormous, skeletal monster towered over the villain. Her eyes glowed bright green and Psimon's eyes widened as the mental barrage began.

Robin threw himself out of the way, causing AMAZO's blast of heat vision to slam into Red Tornado, dissipating the swirling red vortex at his feet. Artemis looked up, craning her head in time to see Batgirl slam the final piece of the overcharged EMP into place.

A shockwave blasted out, knocking Artemis off her feet and throwing everyone back. Echoes of a scream rocketed through her head as Miss Martian overpowered Psimon and obliterated the hold he had over the League; every one of them collapsed into a heap at the same time. There was a loud crash as AMAZO and Red Tornado powered down, their bodies slamming into the ground with the weight of several tons of steel.

Artemis pushed herself back to her feet, ignoring the way her head pounded while she looked around to check on her teammates; they were all climbing back to their feet. Nobody was hurt.

"Artemis!" Batgirl shouted, and Artemis's head snapped up to see her friend dangling from the bottom of the particle generator, hanging desperately onto a bar fifty feet off the ground. As Artemis watched, her grip slipped and she fell.

"BABS!" Artemis screamed, terror pounding through her chest. The world was moving in slow motion and Artemis was frozen in place, trying desperately to figure out what to do but she couldn't move. All she could do was watch, her face a mirror of the terror on Babs' face.

Something shot past her, and then suddenly Conner was there, launching himself into the air and grabbing Batgirl out of her fall thirty feet from certain death. He landed with a bang, and even though it had only been a few seconds, it felt like a lifetime.

Conner set Batgirl down and Artemis was across the room, hugging her for dear life a second later.

"Babs! You're okay?!" Artemis demanded. Babs nodded shakily, burying her head in Artemis' neck. Artemis' hand went to the back of Batgirl's cowl, holding her close to assure herself the other girl was still there. They'd already lost Dick, she couldn't lose Babs too.

Another body slammed into them as Robin threw his arms around Batgirl.

"I'm okay." Batgirl said, her voice already sounding steadier.

"Is everyone alright?" Aqualad asked, his voice a bastion of steadiness.

"Yeah." That was Jason, on Babs' other side.

"Same." Zatanna.

"I'm good." Conner.

"All good." Cameron.

"Yes." M'gann.

"Good here." Wally finished the count. They were all okay. At his words, Aqualad's shoulders slumped in relief. Batgirl pulled back, and Artemis let go.

"Good." Aqualad said, the single word holding a lifetime's worth of emotion. He held out his hand for Robin to pass him the inhibitor cuffs from his utility belt. "Superboy, help me disassemble AMAZO. Miss Martian, secure Psimon. Kid Flash, secure Ivo."

"Right." M'gann nodded. Her eyes glowed green, and the cuffs floated across the room, securing themselves to Psimon's wrists. Kid Flash blurred into motion, tying up Ivo tightly with Wonder Woman's borrowed lasso.

"Where's Superman?"

"Secured. Kara's watching him." Superboy reported. Punk Superboy nodded.

"We need to send a message to the UN and the World Leaders that the threat has been neutralized." Aqualad said as the League members began to wake up.

"What… what happened?" Wonder Woman asked, clutching her head.

"Mind control." Aqualad answered from the other side of the room where he and Superboy were still pulling the pieces of AMAZO apart.

All around them, Leaguers were climbing back to their feet where they'd fallen. Zatanna helped Black Canary back onto her feet, while Kid Flash pulled his uncle up. She saw Batgirl and Robin at Batman's side, the three of them staring at each other in silence. But not all of them were getting up. Artemis frowned.

"Tornado?" Artemis asked. The robot hadn't moved; he was a heap of red metal and blue cape along the Watchtower's floor. At her words, the League stopped and the room went silent. Superboy was the closest, so he dropped AMAZO's arm onto the ground with a loud clatter and stepped closer.

The robot didn't move. There was no power, no hum from the android's titanium carbide heart, nothing to prove that Tornado was more than just a hunk of metal on the ground. Superboy was quiet, the frown on his face deepening.

"There's no power. His heart is stopped." Conner said softly after a few moments of agonized waiting. The words hit Artemis like a punch to the gut. "He's gone."

Tornado was gone? No. No, he couldn't be. That was impossible, he's a robot, he shouldn't be able to... he couldn't be…

"No!" Zatanna pushed to the front, dropping to the ground in front of their mentor. She held her hands over the android and narrowed her eyes in concentration. "Nrut no! Odanrot, nrut no! Emoc kcab ot su! Nrut no!"

Nothing happened.

Zatanna pulled back, whipping around to stare at the League.

"We can fix him!" She shouted, tears leaking out of her eyes. "He had that other body in Mount Justice, the one he was working on! If we can… if we could transfer him… we just have to turn him back on and…"

"He's gone." A woman's voice came from behind them. Artemis turned to see Hawkwoman limping slowly into the room, supporting an unconscious Red Arrow over her shoulder with a broken, bloody wing visible on the other side. "Ivo destroyed his programming to overwrite it for his purposes. Savage came to gloat before it happened."

"No. No!" Zatanna said, shaking her head back and forth. Her head snapped to the side, her finger jabbing at the helmeted figure in the corner who looked as put-together as ever. "No! Fate, do something! Fix this!"

"Magic has limits." Dr. Fate responded, Nabu's cold voice layered over Zatara's heartbroken one. "I am sorry, but this is beyond my capabilities."

Someone stepped forward, crossing the distance and lowering himself so that he could put his hand on Zatanna's shoulder.

"I will do everything in my power to restore him." Batman promised, but Artemis didn't need to be the World's Greatest Detective to know that he'd already accepting it was hopeless. Artemis felt something drip down her face and she realized she was crying. Wally squeezed her hand, his face paler than she'd ever seen it before. She hadn't even noticed him come over.

The Watchtower was silent.

They'd done it. They saved the rescued the League, defeated the bad guys, and saved the world. And all it cost them was Red Tornado.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are two things that happened in this chapter I expect you to hate me for. One of them is killing Tornado, and the other is including the most inappropriately placed crossover I can possibly imagine. I hope you caught it, and if you do hate me, I understand completely. 
> 
> Next up, we'll get to see how Dick is holding up. The answer will not shock you. And if there's any fallout from Superman going rogue and giving the entire planet a heart attack, I imagine we'll see some of that too.
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Please leave me a comment to let me know what you think! It makes my day to hear from you guys and I'd love to know if you "enjoyed" this chapter as much as I "enjoyed" writing it.


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know it's been a while. In my defense, I'm just going to vaguely gesture at the state of the world. Seriously though, thank you all so so much for your patience, I needed to step back and take a break, but I'm back and I'm so excited to share this chapter! It is, in my opinion, absolutely heartbreaking and so much fun. For us, not for Dick. Thank you again, and without further ado, let's see how Dick is doing.

Dick Grayson

New York City

Day 64

* * *

Done. Thank god. Tomorrow's Sunday, so I'll be able to finish the last lesson and finally get caught up. The past few weeks have been hell, but I'm almost done. Slade said that I'd get privileges back once I got caught up. He won't break his end of the deal, not with how strict he is about me keeping mine. I just have to get through tomorrow.

I press the enter key and wait for the confirmation screen to load. The only thing slower than the loading bar in the center of the screen is the timer in the top corner.

The office chair lets out a low squeak as I lean my head back against the headrest, tilting the frame backwards. I have to admit, it's a nice chair. There really aren't that many office chairs that would be tolerable to sit in for hours on end, but this one has nice lumbar support. My back still hurts, but that's not surprising. I've been sitting down for almost twelve hours a day for weeks now.

The submission form for the physics test finally loads, confirming that the online program has received my test.

I glance at the timer in the corner of the screen. Only one minute and seventeen seconds left.

What now? It's too late to try and get started on tomorrow's work, but it's too early to eat dinner and if I have to look at a screen for five more minutes, my brain is going to explode. So the iPod is out. That doesn't leave me with a lot of stuff to fill the rest of the night, especially since I've already been to the gym twice today. There's a tear on the couch in the living room. Too bad Slade would never trust me with a needle and thread, otherwise I could sew it up.

I barely manage to resist the urge to bang my head in the desk. I'm bored enough that repairing upholstery sounds like fun.

The countdown reaches zero, and along with it the electronic lock on the door clicks open loudly. I push myself out of the chair and stretch, listening to the symphony of cracks that erupt. I wander into the kitchen, staring out over the skyline and watching the millions of lights in the dark.

It's funny. Considering how close Gotham is to New York, I haven't seen the city much at all.

Heh. Considering the fact that I've been here for months, I really haven't seen any of this building either. I know that Slade owns this apartment, and probably the whole floor too, but I've never seen anyone else use the gym or the staircase at the end of the hallway that goes from this floor up.

This whole building doesn't really add up. There's never been another person on the elevator, or in the hallways, and Slade has no problem with me taking the stairs up to the gym. If it wasn't for the fact that this is an enormous apartment building in New York City, it would almost seem like the whole building is empty.

I glance at the door. I still have access to the gym, so the door should be open, and it's not like I have anything else to do. Besides, if Slade doesn't want me to go somewhere, the door will be locked anyways.

Grabbing a protein bar and a bottle of water (just in case), I leave the apartment. This hallway is always quiet, just the sound of the central air flowing. There are five other apartments on the floor, but I've never seen any hint of another person.

The first door I try is apartment D, just to the right of mine. It opens into an empty room, nothing but hardwood floors and pristine white walls when I flick the lights on. That's one mystery solved.

"Guess I was right." I say, just to hear some kind of sound other than my own footsteps. "I bet they're all empty."

The layout of the apartment is almost exactly the same as mine, except it's totally empty. All the appliances look brand new; the fridge, the oven, the bathroom sinks, everything is move-in ready. It's like whoever built this place got it all set up and never moved anyone in.

I wonder what the contractors think happened. They probably spent years putting this place up, and then one day they're done and the apartments never go on the market. They probably don't care, I'm sure nobody would think twice. Slade's good at making things disappear.

I leave apartment D and head for the next one. It's exactly the same, except instead of the iconic skyline, the living room looks out over the bay. Probably the Hudson, but I don't really have any way of checking. I settle on the ground in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows and wrap my arms around my legs.

Reflections of light glitter off the water, sending back eerie shadows of light that bounce over the empty room.

"You'd love this view, Jay." I say. "It's way better than the view from Bruce's office."

I miss Jason. I miss them all. As long as Slade kept his word, they're safe, but just because they're not in danger doesn't mean they'll hate me any less.

My stomach clenches.

There's no way to know if they're okay. Except that Slade would probably rub it in my face if anything happened to them. And since he hasn't said a word about any of them in months, I have to believe they're okay.

Suddenly, the view doesn't feel as peaceful. The loneliness in my chest has hardened into a pain in my stomach and the thought of sitting here any longer makes me sick.

I get up and walk out, heading right for the stairwell. I know the door to the twelfth floor is unlocked, but I've never tried going down. My footsteps bounce off the walls and I try not to think about how lonely it sounds. If I could sing, the acoustics would be pretty great in here. Maybe I should try sometime… Josh insists that recordings of me sound exactly like Jesse McCartney, I wonder if that would translate to my singing voice. Shaking the thought away with a grin, I try the door to the eighth floor. To my shock, it opens easily.

The eighth floor looks just like the one I just left. I wander through the empty apartments and the feeling of unease gets worse. It all just looks exactly the same and I feel like I'm trapped in some kind of weird dream.

In one of the empty bedrooms, I stare down at the street eight stories below. Even this late at night, the streets are full of lights, people and cars going about their lives.

"I just want to go outside." I tell the empty room. The room doesn't answer. I let my forehead rest against the window pane. I wonder what's happening in the real world. Maybe it's been the most boring week in human history. Maybe the world almost ended. There's no way I'll ever find out.

"Come upstairs."

Slade's voice appears out of thin air and I jump, my feet literally leaving the ground for a second. My head whips around, but there's nobody else in the room. It takes a few heart-pounding seconds for my eyes to lock onto the intercom near the light switch, and then I can finally breathe again.

Of course he was watching me this whole time. I can't be in trouble for this, he would have stopped me half an hour ago if he didn't want me wandering around. But what does he want? He knows I haven't caught up on work yet, there's not a chance in hell he's going to decide it's good enough and we can get back to work. But the last time he broke the pattern, it was to drag me in front of a camera to meet with Vandal Savage. Fuck, what if it's Luthor? I know I'm desperate to see another human being, but not that desperate.

* * *

Slade is waiting for me in the living room, a deep frown set on his face. My heart skips a beat and I take a step closer to the door behind me without thinking.

"Sit." Slade says without preamble. "I have some bad news."

My heart jumps into my throat while my stomach plummets through the floor and I want to throw up. Slade's been keeping me in complete isolation from the world for months, something horrific must have happened for him to tell me. And I'm not stupid enough to think there's any reason he's telling me aside from the fact that he knows it's going to hurt me.

I sit on the couch as far away from Slade as I can get. This is going to be bad enough without deliberately pissing him off.

"Red Tornado was destroyed."

"What?!" My heart stops.

Red Tornado… can't be destroyed. That's… that's impossible, he can't—it has to be a mistake.

"He was destroyed in an attack on the League."

"What happened?!" I demand.

"I don't know the details." Slade says calmly. "Just that he was the only casualty."

"Bullshit!" I shout, suddenly on my feet even though I don't remember standing up. I can feel my face getting red, my heart pounding with fury.

"Watch your tone."

"Don't pretend you don't know! Tell me the fucking truth!"

The look on Slade's face changes in an instant; calm façade obliterated in a twist of rage. Slade crosses the distance between us and my instincts take over. I scramble away as fast as I can, accidentally whacking the back of my head on the door. My blood turns to ice as Slade reaches out, his thumb gently pressing against the bottom of my chin to tilt my head up. He's in my space, using his massive size advantage to block any escape, but the only contact is the single finger under my chin that's barely light enough to feel.

Somehow, that makes it so much more terrifying than if he'd just slammed me against the wall and strangled me again.

"I don't know the details." Slade repeats, and there's not a single ounce of emotion in his voice even though fury is written all over his face. I try to pull away, but the signal from my brain gets lost somewhere and I can't move. I can't breathe. Shit, I haven't seen him this mad in… since… the last time his voice sounded like this was in the office that day I tried to give myself up to save my family. But there's no way in hell he's going to start laughing this time. "I went to great lengths to avoid any information once I heard the news, because I felt that you deserved an honest response where your former friends are concerned. And what do I get for my trouble?"

"Fuck. You." I hiss.

"I understand that you are upset, so I will give you one chance to apologize."

"Go to hell." My arms are shaking. The trembling in my knees has only gotten worse and my heart won't stop speeding up no matter how much the working part of my brain knows that panicking isn't going to help, not where Slade is involved. I brace myself, waiting for Slade to strike out.

But he steps back. The hand under my chin is gone, there's no massive, angry psychopath towering over me. Slade pauses when he reaches the door.

"I am sorry, Richard. I know you cared about him."

Then he's gone and I'm alone.

The next thing I know, I'm on the ground, back pressed against the legs of the couch with my face buried in my hands.

* * *

The League was attacked.

Red Tornado was destroyed.

* * *

He's gone.

I wasn't there.

* * *

I can't do anything about any of it.

I should have been there. Maybe I could have helped.

* * *

How many other people are going to get hurt while there's nothing I can do?

* * *

It turns out to be a very, very long night.

* * *

Day 65

* * *

I groggily pull my eyes open and reach for the snooze button. That's when it hits me that there's no alarm going off, nothing beeping at me to wake me up. I sit up and check the clock.

6:04.

My heart stops.

6:04.

6:04!

As in four minutes past six.

6:04 as in four minutes past the door locking for the next twelve hours.

NO!

I race for the door and tug on the handle. It doesn't budge.

No. No. No! NO! This can't be happening!

I slam my fists against the door.

"Slade!" I shout, fists pounding against the door, "Let me out! Slade!"

I wrench the door handle down and it doesn't move at all. Kicking the door doesn't change anything, neither does slamming my fists against the frame. I sink down onto the ground, chest heaving as I fight back a sudden wave of tears.

I'm stuck in here for the next twelve hours. I can't get to the computer, I can't catch up on the lessons, and that means I'll be behind for another entire week. Seventy days in a row of boredom and stress and isolation and spite and trying to beat Slade in a game he's been winning since the start.

Slade disabled the alarm. He turned off the alarm so I wouldn't get up in time.

Why did I have to yell at him?! Why couldn't I just have apologized when he gave me a chance instead of telling him to go to hell? What was I thinking, why am I so stupid?!

Oh god, it's going to be at least another week of this before I can catch up now. I'm going to have to do twelve-hour days all over again, just to try and get back to where I was yesterday. And what if… what if when I get there, Slade locks me in here all over again?!

My heart starts pounding and my body shudders, recoiling head to toe in horror. I force myself onto my feet and drag myself to the bathroom, splashing water on my face to push back against the panic. My stomach lets out a protest, a really unpleasant reminder that I was too upset to eat dinner last night, and now I'm not going to heave anything to eat for twelve hours.

Don't think about that.

I stick my hands under the faucet and let them fill with water. I gulp down water, trying to fill my stomach. It helps a little with the hunger, and a lot with the headache. I turn the faucet off and wipe my hand across my face, staring at myself in the mirror.

I look tired. Actually, that's generous; I look like complete shit. My hair is long and shaggy and the bags under my eyes are enormous and my skin looks so pale from the lack of sunlight. And it's just going to get worse. Slade's barely getting started with the things he could do to me. The things he's going to do if I don't break soon enough.

I climb back into bed and curl up on my side, shoulders and hip digging into the mattresses. My eyes lock onto a tiny stain on the wall across from me. It's been nine weeks.

Nine weeks of isolation. Nine weeks of trying to fight Slade, to get him to listen to me when he won't even look at me.

I can't do this anymore.

* * *

I lay back down and pull the covers over my head. At least I can sleep.

Four hours later, I'm awake again and my empty stomach is going into spasms. Only eight more hours.

* * *

It's not long until my thoughts pick up exactly where they left off last night.

Tornado can't be dead. He can't be gone. That's impossible, it can't be possible. He's an android; as long as his programming is intact, he can be rebuilt. This has to be a trick. It wouldn't be the first time Slade lied to me to hurt me. Or maybe it's a ploy by the League to… to… trick the villains into thinking he's gone? But that doesn't make sense, how would that help anyone?

I should have been there! Maybe I could fix him, there's nobody in the League that's as good with tech as I am.

This is all my fault. It's my fault he's dead. It's my fault the League got attacked. It must be, there's no way the Light wasn't going to retaliate for what I did.

A horrible thought strikes me suddenly and I sit up.

The case is leaning against the wall, in the exact same place it's been for the last two months. It's untouched. Right?

My heart jumps, pounding in my chest and suddenly my mouth is so dry I'm scared my tongue is going to snap in half. Slade wouldn't… he said he wouldn't. The chips are all still in there. There's no way he… there's no way he gave them back to the Light after everything. I mean, maybe he would but he'd tell me if he was going to so he could rub it in my face. They're still in there. They have to be. Before I know it, I'm on the other side of the room, crouching on the floor to undo the locks.

With shaking fingers, I pry the case open.

A rush of air escapes my lips in pure relief. The chips are still there, all twenty-eight of them.

My knees tremble so badly I have to sit down, and it takes everything I have not to just start sobbing. Slade didn't lie about the chips. He hasn't lied to me since I got here. What if…

What if he hasn't lied about anything?

Maybe Bruce really… maybe he really did replace me. Maybe I've always just been expendable to him; that would explain why he never paid attention to what I did. It's not that he never noticed me sneaking away or all the unexplained disappearances, it's that he just didn't care enough about me to do anything about it. Even when I went to Geneva without telling him, he only cared because he was already pissed at me since I didn't want to let Selina move in. That was just him being a control freak. It didn't mean that he actually cared.

Slade's right. Bruce doesn't need me. He made that clear on the rooftop over the Iceberg Lounge when he was facing down Deathstroke and an unknown threat and didn't blink at the thought of taking them on alone. He never needed Robin, and he definitely didn't need me to be him. Especially since… especially since he just gave it to Jason as soon as I betrayed him.

He let Jason be Robin.

He just gave my costume, my uniform, MY name to him without any hesitation.

That couldn't send a clearer message if he tried.

I thought Bruce hated me. I thought he could never forgive me for what I did, for lying to him, for abusing his trust and going behind his back and putting everyone in danger but I was wrong.

Bruce doesn't hate me.

He doesn't care enough for that.

Slade hasn't lied to me. He said it himself, he doesn't need to. He knows that I've done things my friends will never be able to forgive me for, he knows that there's nowhere else for me to go. I know that I shouldn't trust him but he's only ever been clear about what he wants. He wants me to be his apprentice, just like I promised after he saved my life.

He knows Bruce doesn't care. He knows Bruce never cared.

But even more than that, Slade knows me. He knows my head inside and out, most days better than I do. Slade knows how much Robin meant to me. He knows what he did, ripping Robin out of me and making sure he burned.

Because Robin was the best part of me. I meant what I said to Canary that day; Robin is—was the part of me that was good. And if Robin is gone… if I'm NOT him anymore…

I'm not good. I'm not… I'm not a good person. I haven't really been good since the first time I lied to Bruce, but at least as Robin I could help people. Without Robin, I can't even do that. Renegade exists to hurt people; to obey Deathstroke no matter what the price is to others.

And all the criminals and villains I used to fight, the people Robin fought every single day to stop… I'm not better than them. I'm a criminal. I'm a criminal now and I have been for a while. I stole from Hizer. I did that. And I hurt people to do it.

Batman, the League, my friends, they're looking for me. They're trying to stop me, to bring me in so I can face justice and they're… they're right to. I'm a criminal and it's what I deserve. There's nothing to go back to. I can't pretend there is; as badly as I want to go home, what I want never really existed.

I'm Slade's apprentice. I'm his apprentice. I'm…. I'm his. And I have been ever since the day I agreed to work for him in the first place.

I love my family, I love them so much and I miss them more than I could ever put into words, but I've been lying to them the entire time they've known me. I've literally been working for Slade longer than Tim lived with Bruce. My siblings don't know the real me. Our entire relationship is built on a lie. My life wasn't real; it was always just an act. A front. A cover story.

And my friends, my teammates. They knew there was a mole and they trusted me, even when I knew Slade was using me to steal secrets, even when I was putting them in danger.

* * *

It's not fair. It's not fair! I never wanted this. I never wanted any of this!

Why did Bruce have to take me in? Why couldn't he have just left me to the system, or pulled some strings to get me out of juvie and into a real foster home? Then I never would have become Robin and I never would have met Slade and I wouldn't have had to deal with any of this.

* * *

This is never going to end. I'm never going to get away from Slade, and anything I try just ends up with me getting hurt. My whole plan was to stick it out long enough that I wouldn't actually break, but what's the point? There's no way out. If I leave, Slade's going to hurt my family. I can't let that happen, so I can't leave.

My gaze falls on the little rectangle sitting innocently on the dresser. It's the iPod. That's what it all comes down to. The olive branch, Slade's way of saying that things can be good if I play along with his games. Just like the donuts. Just like being trapped in an apartment with windows instead of sealed up underground for all this time.

There's no way to get through this. I'm never going to beat Slade. Ever. He's already won and even if I had any fight left, it would be stupid to keep trying. This is my life now. Disobeying Slade only hurts me. I need to gain his trust. I have to.

But it all comes down to the iPod, the one reminder I have that things aren't hopeless.

* * *

I don't want Slade to win. I don't want the League to lose. I wish there was some way I could help them, some way I could make a difference. But there isn't one, not while I'm locked up here. Not while Slade controls everything I do.

But I know he's already won. I've known from the start and I've just been trying so hard to fight a losing battle. This has to end. I can't fight him anymore, I'm too tired. I'm so, so fucking tired. This battle is over. It has been for months. Maybe even longer.

It's way past time to accept that.

* * *

A hand lands on my shoulder and pushes me onto my back. My eyes snap open and my stomach lets out a loud grumble.

"You need to eat," Slade says. I nod and climb out of bed. My eyes never leave the ground while I follow Slade numbly down the hallway. My body feels heavy and my stomach sends a new wave of hunger every few seconds in the form of a painful cramp.

"You should go to bed earlier," Slade comments lightly, testing to see if I rise to the bait.

"Yes sir." I answer quietly. He turns, his good eye scans over me but he doesn't say anything. When we get to the kitchen, Slade nods towards the table.

"Sit."

I do.

Slade opens the refrigerator and I hear dishes and silverware clink. I'm too tired to turn my head, so I just stare at the table. The microwave runs and after a minute, it beeps. Slade puts the plate in front of me. He leans against the island, arms crossed over his chest, watching me silently. My mouth waters as I look at the plate but instead of eating, I turn towards Slade.

"Can I…" I ask quietly, my voice trailing off. His lip twists up into a triumphant smirk and I just don't have it in me to care.

"Go ahead."

Slade watches me dig into the food, and even though I'm starving I manage not to wolf it all down at once.

"I think we can agree that this was an unfortunate fluke." He says after several long minutes of me eating in silence, and I almost don't understand what he's saying. "We'll assume that you're back on track once you finish tomorrow's lesson, and we'll meet in the gym at 3."

My heart pounds and I look up at him, eyes wide. Is he serious? He changed his mind? With a nod, Slade pushes off the counter and starts to leave the room.

"Wait!" I stop him, suddenly finding my voice. He turns around, suspicion written all over his face. I'm going to regret this; I don't get to ask Slade for things. But I need to, I can't… I try to get the words out, but my mouth moves and nothing comes out.

"Yes?" Slade prompts harshly.

"I… " I swallow nervously and force myself to get the words out. My voice sounds so small. "Don't go."

The room is so quiet that a pin drop would have been deafening.

Slade leaves.

My heart thuds in my chest and there's nothing but loneliness and desperation so strong it scares me. What was I expecting?

I pick at my food. I try to ignore the silence. Even though it's been an entire day since I ate, it all tastes like cardboard in my mouth.

A door opens and Slade's footsteps return. He doesn't say anything, but he puts his briefcase on the table, pulls out his laptop and starts working. The ball in the pit of my stomach releases suddenly and I can breathe normally again. The sound of fingers hitting the keyboard fills the room, and it feels like the first time in months I haven't been alone.

I'm terrified by how much better it feels.

* * *

Day 68

* * *

Sweat pours off my face. Running has been the only way to stay busy over the last few months so I thought my cardio would be fine, but we've had six training sessions in the last three days and I haven't caught my breath since. Slade's staff slashes through the air and I barely throw myself out of the way in time, rolling back to my feet and bringing my staff up in time to meet it.

The staff is slippery in my hands but I don't have time to wipe the sweat off. There are no openings, no delays and no hesitation. Just intense focus as I try to keep up with Slade pushing as hard as he can.

It's not training staffs either. Without any armor, even a single hit from the metal is enough to knock me off my feet.

My hands hurt from trading blows, every hit sending another shockwave up my arms, but it's never strong enough to lose my grip. Slade hasn't said a word the entire fight, none of the usual critiques or changes to my stance or my aim or my timing or my—

I hurl myself into the air, flipping over the line of silver that flashes through the space I was just in. I twist, bringing my staff down for a strike that Slade counters. My feet move as soon as they hit the ground, pulling me out of striking distance.

Slade readjusts, but he gives a tiny, barely noticeable nod. Then he's moving again before I have time to breathe, let alone figure out what that meant.

I block a flurry of blows, but even before the next one strikes, I know I'm out of place. I moved too far and it unbalanced my stance, and I know the hit is coming before it gets there.

The staff jabs into my chest and there's a crackle of electricity; pain arcs through my body and I have no control over the shout that comes out of my mouth while every muscle I have contracts at the same time. By the time it stops, I'm on the ground shaking and gasping for breath. My hands are twitching and my body spasms with the aftershocks.

Fuck, that hurt.

"Get up." Slade says after approximately ten seconds. Maybe five.

I try to, but my leg gives out as soon as I put weight on it. Slade frowns and panic washes over me.

"I'm sorry!"

"I said, get up." Slade repeats, his voice cold. I take a breath, squeezing my hands into fists before narrowing my eyes furiously. I can do this. Slade wouldn't tell me to do something unless he knows I can do it.

I dig my hands into the mat and push myself up, climbing to my feet by sheer willpower.

"Good." Slade says, holding my staff out of reach. "Get a drink, walk two laps, and we'll go again."

Slade actually waits until the tremors are totally gone and I've stretched out all the protesting muscles until he throws me my bo staff and charges. If he's going any easier on me, I can't tell, but he has to be. I just got tased five minutes ago, there's no way I can keep up with the speed from before. So if I'm holding my own again, it has to be because Slade is going easy on me.

Even if it doesn't feel like it.

My staff arcs down, forcing Slade back. My arms are in front of me, crossed so my right side is vulnerable, and I know exactly how Slade's going to move.

I see an opening. It's tiny but it's real. When Slade lunges, he gets right up in my space and his face is unprotected. My right hand lets go of the staff and moves before Slade has a chance to get out of the way.

It's a perfect strike.

The second before my fingers make contact, it hits me that I'm about to jab Slade right in his exposed eye socket and the instant I start fighting dirty, he's going to stomp me into the ground.

I freeze.

Slade takes advantage of my hesitation and the opening disappears like it was never there. His hand locks around my wrist and the other seizes the front of my shirt, dragging me in close.

"What the hell are you doing?" He growls and the grip around my wrist tightens in unconscious rage. My heart skips a beat.

"I'm sorry!"

"Why did you stop?" Slade snarls.

"I didn't—what?" My brain screeches to a halt.

"You had a perfect opening. And you stopped yourself. Why?" Slade still sounds furious and I don't understand what he's mad about.

"I… It was dirty."

Slade stops. He raises an eyebrow, looking almost… amused.

"Have I been holding back on you?"

Holding back? He just electrocuted me less than five minutes ago.

Slade is looking at me like he expects an answer, so I shake my head.

"No."

"Then why would you hold back against me?"

"You… you want me to fight dirty?"

"Want you to? Richard, I expect you to. I expect you to do everything you can to win. You're not fighting to just stay on your feet anymore. You're fighting to beat me."

I stare at him, heart pounding in my chest. Slade must see something on my face because he doesn't stop there or throw me right back into the spar.

"You're not an easy target. You're a skilled warrior and you are much more dangerous then you believe." He looks me straight in the eye and there's something almost like pride on his face. "Next time you find an opening, do not hold back. Do you understand?"

Is Slade… proud of me? What would he have done if I'd actually taken the shot?

"I… yes sir."

"Good. Now let's see if that was just a fluke or if you can do it again."

* * *

This is a terrible idea. I know it's a terrible idea. I knew it was a terrible idea as soon as it popped into my head, and it stayed a terrible idea for the entire rest of the spar. He's never going to agree and just because he gave me a compliment during a sparring session doesn't mean that he trusts me. He doesn't have any reason to be generous.

And worst case (which is way more likely than him actually agreeing), asking him is going to piss him off.

But this is… an opening. I have his attention and he's in a good mood. And he just told me to take advantage of the next opening I find.

"Can I go outside?"

Slade stops. He looks at me and I can feel my heart stop. Or maybe it starts beating so fast that each beat is totally indistinguishable from the next one. Either way, it feels like an eternity before he says anything.

There's no anger on his face, no distrust in the way he's standing, no alarms in the back of my head screaming about sudden danger. It takes me a few seconds to get over the shock and realize that he actually answered.

"What?"

"Apartment 12B has a private rooftop terrace. Stay underneath the enclosed area or I'll revoke the privilege."

"What?" I repeat numbly. "Why?"

"A helicopter flying over the building could record you and expose this location. Do you really want to risk Batman showing up because you wanted to leave the shade?"

"No! No, I didn't mean it like that, I just… I didn't think… I—" I cut myself off, forcing myself to take a deep breath until I can get real words out. It's not the same as going out into the real world, but Slade just gave me permission to get fresh air. That's not a small thing.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

* * *

Day 69

* * *

I push open the door to 12B, taking in the empty room and the polished hardwood floors. It feels like the start to a bad joke that I would rather deal with an angry Slade than find out he lied to me and got my hopes up for nothing.

It's been so long since I was outside. Fresh air sounds almost like a fictional promise; something I took for granted every single day of my life until Slade locked me up here.

My footsteps echo on the wood, bouncing off the windows while I walk toward the front of the living room. Slade was telling the truth; there's a terrace out there, with an overhang enclosing two of the sides and potted bushes lining the retaining wall.

I reach for the handle of the sliding door and I'm so nervous I can't breathe. If it's locked, if Slade is only pretending to give me a taste of freedom so he can rip it away and laugh, I'm going to… I'll… I can't…

The door slides open and a front of cold air rushes past me. My chest hitches, hands falling to my side because that's fresh air. It's outside. It's really outside.

I lose track of how long I stand in the doorway with my eyes closed and the wind ruffling through my hair, but eventually it hits me that I haven't even stepped out of the building. Slade said I can go outside, for real.

For some reason, I'm not expecting that first step to feel different, but it's been weeks. MONTHS. I've been stuck inside all day everyday for so long, that being outside, having not one but two directions to look out in, it… I…

* * *

"It's almost eight." Slade says. That means weapons training. I stand up from the spot near the trellis I've been curled up in for the last few hours, trying to hide my face so he can't see how desperately I want to stay. This was a huge privilege and if I push back at all, it would be effortless for him to take it away. Slade stops me before I can pass him, a firm hand on my shoulder. "You can come back out after you've eaten dinner."

I freeze.

"I—really?"

Slade crosses his arms over his chest.

"You know the rules, and you know the hours you're allowed to be out of your apartment."

My heart stops.

I can… come out here whenever I want? Did he seriously just say that?

"Thank you!"

* * *

Day 75

* * *

"Come with me." Slade says when he walks into the room. I pull my headphones out and stick my iPod in my pocket, but Slade stops and shakes his head at me. "Leave that here."

I hesitate. Before Slade has to tell me again, I manage to pull the device out of my pocket and set it on one of the side tables. I follow him out of my apartment and into the hallway but instead of going into his unit, he heads for the elevator. After the doors close, Slade swipes a card and hits the button for the basement.

The elevator ride is silent. Slade looks as unperturbed as ever except for the occasional glance at his watch. I shift my weight back and forth, stopping my fingers from tapping against my leg every time they want to start. There's a quip about creepy basement lairs somewhere, but my tongue feels like dead weight in my mouth. My heart, on the other hand, is pounding like a jackhammer and it's so loud I'm sure Slade can hear it. I hate when Slade does something different. I never know what to expect, and even though I haven't done anything worth punishing, there's almost no chance this is going to be anything good.

Unless… what if this is punishment for yelling at him about Red Tornado?

But he already punished me for that. Shit, unless he didn't actually mess with my alarm clock and I got locked inside my room for twelve hours because I fucked up and overslept. My stomach twists in terror at the thought. This could be a punishment.

My legs are trembling by the time the elevator stops and Slade strides out without a word. He leads me down a typical basement hallway with concrete floors and creepily bright fluorescent lights before stopping outside a door labelled "Boiler Room."

That would be fine, except for the fact that we already passed another door that already claimed to be a boiler room.

Slade pulls a keyring out of his pocket and unlocks the door, unlatching the deadbolt with an ominous thud. I really, really, really don't know how to possibly overstate how badly I do not want to go inside, but Slade's already gone through the doorway and if I'm in trouble to start with, the last thing in the universe I want to do is make it worse.

So I pinch myself to stave off the panic and follow him.

My feet freeze when I see the row of cells, complete with thick bars, metal cots, and did I mention the impenetrable locks on the doors?

Slade glances back when he notices I've stopped and he raises an eyebrow.

"Do you want the tour?" He asks, annoyance creeping into his voice. I shake my head frantically after a few unsuccessful attempts to make any kind of sound. "Then don't keep me waiting."

He disappears into a new room and I practically sprint after him. I don't know which is worse; the cells or the fact that Slade just locked the door behind me and now I'm stuck with him inside what looks like a cross between an infirmary and an interrogation room. I almost double over, bile rising in my throat from sheer terror.

The last time Slade trapped me in an interrogation room, he… I…

'_You are mine, Richard.'_

"I thought this room might look familiar." Slade sounds amused, watching me desperately fight back against the panic. "Most of my safehouses are equipped for… special purposes. I doubt this will ease your fears at all, but this isn't a punishment."

I force myself to breathe, inhaling through my nose for eight counts before slowly exhaling through my mouth. Slade doesn't sound mad, he doesn't look mad and he just said this isn't a punishment. I'm not in trouble.

"Have a seat." Slade gestures at the examination table and my eyes catch on the restraints. Terror floods my body, rushing through my lungs and settling in my stomach like a stone. I'm going to end up on that table no matter what I do. If I try to resist, that's just going to make it worse. Slade doesn't just hurt me for no reason; everything he does has a point.

I walk across the room. For every step I take, I have to choke down a lungful of air to keep myself from hyperventilating. This is going to hurt. Slade said it wasn't a punishment, but that doesn't mean it won't hurt.

In fact, it pretty much guarantees it.

My heart is pounding in my chest, throwing itself against my ribcage so hard it HURTS, and if my teeth could grind together any harder, my jaw would shatter. When I reach the table, blood is rushing in my ears. Tears prick at my eyes, my heart is in my throat, my hands are shaking and I can't breathe, meanwhile my head is spinning with memories; Superboy's unconscious body covered in cuts and slashes, Wally lying half-dead with his ankle shattered and bloody, being separated from my friends and pinned against the wall, Slade's hand closing around my throat and squeezing until my lungs gave out, being tied up alone in the dark until I didn't know if Slade was coming back for me at all.

He's going to hurt me.

Slade pushes off from his spot against the wall, and with every step he takes, a little more blood drains out of my face. I have to just let this happen. It'll be worse if I fight.

"Lay down," Slade says. I squeeze my eyes shut and my head trembles in the closest version of a nod I can manage. I slide myself forward before lying on the table, terror pounding through every fiber of my body. Slade's hand moves my left arm to the side, and when he fastens one of the restrains around it, a sob escapes my mouth.

My right hand flies up to press against my mouth to stifle it, and my eyes are squeezed shut so tightly it aches.

"Just breathe." Slade says while he tightens the cuff around my wrist, and it shouldn't help but it does. "I know this is hard, but it'll be over soon."

I force myself to exhale, trying to focus on the cushioned table at my back and think about how incredible it felt to go outside, to get to breathe fresh air for the first time in months. Slade's not mad at me. Whatever's happening, he's not going to make it hurt any more than it has to.

I keep my eyes shut until the last restraint is on before cracking them open. Slade is tightening the cuff around my ankle, and he looks over when he sees me watching. A spike of fear races through me and I can't look at him. Instead, I focus on the cuffs holding me down to the table.

They're tight. It doesn't hurt, but it's not comfortable. Even worse is the skin-crawling terror that comes from being tied down completely motionless, and worse than that is knowing that I'm totally, completely, entirely in Slade's control. As hard as it was to let him tie me down, it's even worse than everything else combined that I don't even have the option of fighting back anymore.

"Put your head down." Slade says before his hand tilts my chin up, then he wraps a strap around my forehead and secures the back of my head flat against the table.

When he pulls back, there's no humor on his face. No sadistic pleasure. He just clinically checks that all the restraints are tight while I bite my tongue, fingernails digging into my palms.

"Any questions?" Slade asks finally.

"I—" I cut myself off, almost biting my tongue in half as the panic rears its head again. Slade can do whatever he wants to me, and even if I wasn't tied down to the table, there still wouldn't be a single thing I could do to stop him. And besides, I've been working my ass off to show him that I can listen to orders, the last thing I need is to fuck it up now when there's absolutely nothing I can do anyways. My voice shakes when I force out, "No sir."

Slade glances down at his watch and nods.

"You won't get in trouble for asking." He says calmly. "We have a few minutes and you always have questions."

I grind my teeth together to stop the outburst at that. What does he mean, that I always have questions? Has he done this before? I desperately want answers but I'm not stupid, it has to be a trap.

"Nothing?" There's genuine surprise in his voice. "Alright. I'm sure you'd prefer to get this over with."

He turns, and in his hand there's a syringe. I can't stop the strangled gasp that escapes my throat, or the way my arms jerk on the restraints and get nowhere.

Holy shit. Holy shit. No. No, no, no, no, no. No. That's—that can't be what I think it is. No!

"I'm surprised you recognized it so quickly." Slade says, and then there's an alcohol swab rubbing at the crook of my elbow, in EXACTLY the same spot as the one I found the day I punched down a tree. Everything comes together at the same time; this is why Parasite called me a science experiment, why I have a healing factor, why I'm so much stronger than I possibly should be. I knew Slade was doing something to me without me knowing, but now I know what.

It's the serum. The experimental super-solider serum Slade was given in the army, the one that turned him into the deadly psychopath he is today, the one that killed EVERY OTHER SOLDIER in the program.

And he's been injecting me with it.

"Do you understand what's going on?" Slade asks. I swallow, trying to nod while forcing back tears when I realize the strap won't let me move my head.

"Yes sir." I whisper, but only because whisper sounds better than whimper.

"Do you have any questions now?"

"I—" The sound refuses to come out.

"It's alright, Richard. You've done the hard part well; you won't get in trouble for asking."

"Why do I have to be tied down?" I can't stop the way my voice shakes, the fear closing tighter and tighter around my throat.

"The serum causes extreme convulsions. There's a large risk that you might fracture your spine if you're not properly restrained, especially given that the effects become more severe as the dosage increases."

My heart pounds, terror flooding through every part of my body.

"Don't." I whimper. "Slade, please."

"I'm doing this to make you stronger." Slade answers, putting a hand on my shoulder and squeezing in gentle reassurance. At least, that's what it's supposed to be. Instead, it just makes me panic even more. "It won't hurt for long, and you won't remember that it hurt at all."

Slade draws back, reaching for the syringe and I panic.

"Wait!" I shout, the sudden volume coming out of some hidden well of courage in my head.

"Just breathe. It'll be over soon."

"How many times?!" I beg, trying to hold still when all I want to do is struggle and panic.

"How many times have we done this?"

I try to nod, not trusting myself to make a sound.

"Eight. This is the ninth."

"And you… did this. Every time?"

Slade nods, not looking apologetic but there's nothing sadistic on his face either. Something in the back of my head screams that Slade is a monster, but the rest of my brain seizes on the reassurance that Slade isn't doing this to hurt me. I have to trust him, trust that he's not going to do anything that's going to kill me while he still needs me, because I have no other choice. Slade owns me. It doesn't matter that this is wrong and fucked up in every way imaginable, it doesn't matter at all what I want; it just matters that he's going to inject me with the serum and I need to do whatever it takes to prove that I can behave.

I take a breath and close my eyes.

There's a slight pinch when the needle goes in. And after that…

Agony. Bone-splitting, dipped-in-a-vat-of-acid burning, death-by-ten-thousands-knife slicing, constantly building agony. I hear myself scream until my voice breaks but the pain outlasts it. The pain outlasts everything. There's nothing else in the room, nothing else in the world, nothing else in the entire universe.

Just pain.

* * *

Day 75 (1)

* * *

I jerk awake to the sound of the door opening. My face doesn't want to peel off the couch, and my brain feels scrambled in the way that only happens when you wake up from a really perfect nap.

I yawn, stretching my back and listening for the cracks, but there's barely any. I feel great. I must've been exhausted if I passed out like that.

"Did you have a good nap?" Slade almost sounds like he's making fun of me, so I make sure he can't see me roll my eyes at him.

"A great one, actually. Thanks for asking."

"I have dinner." Slade holds up a bag and my jaw drops.

"Is that… takeout?"

"There's a Chinese restaurant down the block that gets good reviews, and you're not allergic to it."

I narrow my eyes.

"Is it poisoned?"

"Why would I waste my time poisoning you indirectly?" Slade raises an eyebrow. I snort. He's in a weirdly good mood, which is good for me, but also alarming.

"Wait, Slade, really. What's going on?"

"You've been working very hard. Think of it as a reward for good behavior."

He hands me a plate and I take it, watching as he unpacks plastic containers full of hot, greasy, amazing smelling food. There's big containers of rice and soup and fortune cookies and for a second I wonder why he didn't try to bribe me with food WEEKS ago.

"Trying out the carrot?" I ask before I can stop myself. Slade looks up.

"We can go back to the stick if you'd prefer."

I recoil, shaking my head and trying to figure out how to apologize for pushing him when I see the calm look on his face hasn't changed. He was teasing me. Or at least, playing along.

I almost forgot that before all of this, back when I still trusted him with my life, we got along. There's not enough room left in my chest to unpack the fact that I miss those days.

"I… that's not why I'm…" I trail off when Slade looks up at me. I exhale, then take a deep breath. "I'm not just trying to not… get punished."

Slade's gaze is locked onto my face, and if he's searching for something, I have no idea what he's going to find. Instead of answering, he nods at the spread on the counter.

"Eat your food."

* * *

Day 80

* * *

Slade unrolls a blueprint on the table. I take in the layout, frowning at the winding corridors and strangely placed exits. The thick pile of papers listing off guard patrols, security system manuals and resident bios is as thick as a brick, and it gives me a headache just looking at it.

"You have an hour to go through everything and come up with three preliminary routes. After an hour, we'll go over it, and you'll have another hour to make changes. Do you have any questions?"

"Is this graded?"

"Any real questions?"

"If I do a good job, do I get something?"

"Richard." Slade says warningly. "I expect you to try your hardest on every assignment I give you."

"I know! I'm sorry, that's not what I meant!" I raise my hands in surrender, trying to backtrack.

"Then what did you mean?"

"I'm coming up with infiltration plans, right? How about if… I come up with three by the end that will work, I get some kind of prize?"

Slade doesn't answer. He just looks at me, unimpressed, while he leans back in his chair. I hold his gaze, trying to find that tricky balance between not looking intimidated without challenging him. I must manage something, because eventually the blank look on his face turns into amusement.

"What kind of prize did you have in mind?"

"A bag of groceries." I answer immediately.

"That's simple enough." The look on Slade's face is pure mockery, and I fight back an eye roll. "Do you care what those groceries are?"

"I want to try and cook for myself for a few days. I have a list of groceries for the stuff I remember how to make."

Slade watches me, not even trying to hide the amusement on his face. I let it roll over me. He's probably going to say no, but even if he does, I'm not going to get in trouble for asking about it.

"Alright." Slade finally decides. I blink.

"Really?"

Slade leans forward, tapping the blueprint again.

"This complex houses some very important and well-guarded documentation that I have been hired to procure. If you can come up with a plan that successfully gets me inside, allows me to complete my objective, and get out without being detected, then I will get you a week's worth of groceries. Do we have a deal?"

My palms feel sweaty and I look down at the blueprint with newfound anxiety. A week's worth of groceries is even more than I asked for; Slade never offers me the better deal in negotiations. That means there's no way this is going to turn out well for me.

I do my best to swallow the lump in my throat.

"And what happens when—I mean, if I can't?"

Slade snorts.

"Richard," he says like a sigh of exhaustion. "Not everything needs to be a fight."

"I…" I freeze, trying to figure out what he's saying. I'm not trying to fight. That's not… "I know."

Slade grins, shaking his head.

"Maybe one day I'll believe you when you say that." Slade pushes back from the desk, standing up as he reaches for a stopwatch. "I'll be back in an hour. Your time starts now."

* * *

Day 83

* * *

I can't stop pacing. I know I should calm down, try to distract myself and stop watching the door every five seconds. Slade's only been gone since last night, he's probably not even going to be back until tomorrow. Or the day after.

So why can't I stop myself from checking the door every five minutes to see if he's back yet? This is pathetic. I'm being ridiculous.

And besides, he's on a job to go steal something. I shouldn't want him to succeed. But my plan was perfect. I mean, sure, no plan is perfect, perfect, but it'll work. I know it will. It'll be fine, and I just have to be patient.

I pull the door open and stick my head out before I can stop the reflex. Ugh, this is like that time Wally and I got Instant Messenger and I literally checked to see if he responded to my messages every two minutes. I'm better than this.

Who am I kidding, of course I'm not.

I hear the elevator first, and I can barely believe the timing. It takes all the self-control I have not to ambush him in the hallway. Instead, I sit on the couch and try to slow my heart rate down. That lasts for all of two seconds.

By the time Slade opens the door to my apartment, carrying a huge duffel bag over his shoulder, I've paced all the way over to the other side of the room.

"How did it go?" I ask nervously, pretending as hard as I can that I can breathe. And that my heart isn't wedged so far up my throat that I don't know how I managed to get those words out. Slade shuts the door behind him and heads for the kitchen counter, dumping his duffel bag unceremoniously on the ground. I follow him over, sitting on one of the stools and watching him pull equipment out.

"I had to eliminate a guard while I was leaving." Slade says without looking up.

"Oh."

The wind goes out of my lungs like a punch to the gut. My shoulders slump in disappointment and I want to yell at myself for having gotten my stupid hopes up in the first place. What was I thinking? Of course it wasn't going to work, it was stupid of me to—

Slade puts a large brown bag on the counter. My jaw drops.

It's filled with groceries. I stare. That's the only thing I can do for an embarrassingly long time.

"I… but… I thought you said—"

"The best strategy I could come up with would have killed two. Excellent work, Richard."

My jaw stays dropped.

Did Slade just say… what I think he said? Did I do a better job at something than he did?

"Richard!" Slade snaps. "Focus."

"Sorry, sir."

"I said, we'll review your plan tonight and discuss the improvements that could have been made. But for now, this should be enough food for a few days. If you need anything else this week, or if there's anything you need for the kitchen, I'll pick it up for you."

"Really?"

"We made a deal. Groceries for a week." Slade pauses, watching me seriously. "I'm allowing you to prepare your own meals. That comes with the expectation that you'll eat enough and take care of your body. Understood?"

"I promise! Thank you!"

* * *

Another new privilege. Keeping a physical list is an excellent way to make Slade suspicious, but I run through the list in my head as often as I can remember. This is the hardest game of chess I've played in my life, especially because I make up all the pieces. I sacrifice my freedom for my physical well-being. Slade trades disobedience for an iPod and a few unlocked doors. Getting to use the kitchen—having access to the stove and the oven and the knives—that's a huge step. Slade doesn't trust me yet, but this is real progress.

I'm alone. Wally is the only one who might not hate me, but just because he knows the whole story doesn't mean he can excuse what I've done. I can never go home again and I can never go back to the circus. If I get caught, I'll go to jail. Whether or not Slade breaks me out, I lose.

I wish there was a way to get out of here. Things are okay right now, but only because I'm being obedient. No matter what he offers, no matter how nice he's being, I will never forget that Slade is a monster. He might not lie to me, but that doesn't mean he has my best interests in mind. The only thing I can ever be sure of is that he's trying to manipulate me into doing what he wants.

I can never let my guard down. I have to be careful—more careful than I've ever been about anything in my life, and I once disarmed a Joker Bomb while hanging underneath a blimp carriage a thousand feet in the air.

Two and a half months of isolation. Goosebumps erupt down my arms just thinking about it. And as horrible as it was, and as much as it drove me to the point of insanity, it could've been so much worse. Slade didn't hurt me, he didn't threaten my family or my friends, he didn't starve me or beat me or blindfold me and tie me to a chair for hours on end. But he could. If he gets suspicious or angry or just frustrated that I'm not doing well enough, this whole tenuous peace will shatter in an instant.

I'm not stupid. Slade is being as nice as he possibly can be right now after my breakdown, and if I ruin it, it'll be my fault. He's giving me every chance to obey and to make the smart choice. And even if I haven't done anything to disobey him yet, the fact that I'm even thinking about an escape is enough.

I've spent so long thinking about it; the one, perfect chance to get away. Every single detail thought through completely and nothing left to chance. The escape route, where to get the money and fake IDs, the best way to travel, what clothes to take, what kind of bag I'll need and where to get it, how to stay stocked on toiletries, where to get a burner phone, and all the million other things like towns to go to and places to stay. It's been the only thing I've thought about for months. I can't let go of it; that beautiful, perfect plan to find a small town near a national park; get enough hiking gear to pass as another outdoors enthusiast. In that perfect world, I'd stay there indefinitely and let the national manhunt and the furious, murderous psychopath chasing me pass me by. There'd be no responsibilities, no Slade breathing down my back, no guilt.

But I'm not stupid. There's no leaving. Not now, not ever. Slade will hurt my family, and even if the person they loved was a lie, it doesn't change the fact that I will never stop caring about them. I will never put them in that kind of danger.

And even if there was a chance Slade would leave me alone, I still couldn't go home. Bruce will do whatever it takes to bring me to justice. He thinks I tried to kill Roy. He saw me stealing from the Watchtower. He… replaced me.

I'm never going to see my friends again either.

But that doesn't mean I'm done. Slade might not have given the chips to the Light, but as long as they exist, they're a threat. The League will never be safe from the Light until the chips are gone, and I am going to get rid of them, even if it's the only act of rebellion I ever have.

First things first; I have to get Slade to let me out of here. That's all that matters. Whatever it'll take to convince him that he can trust me to go outside on my own, I'll do it. It might take months, but I have time. Just having a plan has held me together this long, and I can't abandon it now, no matter what Slade will do to me if it goes wrong. It's what Robin would do. I have to try, for that part of me that knew I was doomed from the day I got here. And for Red Tornado.

Asking for more privileges, showing that I can follow instructions exactly, and showing him little by little that he can trust me, it's the only way I'll ever get out. Of course, I can't be too perfect or he'll get suspicious again. Not making my bed, leaving my apartment messy, showing up a few minutes late to meals, those are the kinds of tells that show him I'm not just playing up the obedient act. Being late to training or grumbling about repetitious tasks are the things I want to do, but complaining is how privileges get lost.

I'm going to have to do something big soon, something to prove that he can really trust me.

And I have a feeling that whatever it is… it's going to suck.

* * *

Day 90

* * *

"I'm ready to go on a job."

Slade's eye pins me down, looking for any hint of what's going on inside my head. I hold his gaze.

"Unfortunately, the only jobs I have at the moment are contracts."

I swallow, tightening my hands into fists. I knew this was coming, I'm ready. I have to do this.

"Okay." I take a breath and force myself to meet Slade's eye. "I want to come."

"You are aware that those types of missions usually involve a body count, correct?"

I flinch, but somehow, I make myself nod. Slade's face is a blank mask. Finally, after I think he's going to decide that this is some kind of trick and ruin all the weeks of steady progress, he shrugs.

"Alright. Let's go."

"Wait, what?" I blink.

"You said you'd like to go on a job, I have one. Let's go."

"Right now?"

"Is that going to be a problem?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Yes, sir. I… I'm ready."

* * *

There's a parking garage underneath the building. It's mostly empty, but there are about a dozen cars scattered around. Slade opens the passenger door of a red pickup truck and I climb in without arguing, trying to fight against the feeling that this is a trap. Because of course it's a trap. Slade was waiting for me to ask, that must be why he's doing this.

The clink of something metallic makes me jump; Slade's attaching a pair of handcuffs to the underside of the seat.

"Hold out your hands." He orders.

"What… what are those for?"

"Do I need to explain my orders to you?"

"No, sir!"

I hold still as Slade attaches the cuffs to my wrists; the restraints are made of rigid fabric instead of metal, so they're not that uncomfortable, but it severely limits the range of motion I have.

* * *

People watching is even better at street level. I've been to New York plenty of times, but it's like something straight out of a movie after only being able to see it looking down for so long. I can't stop staring; all these people are just going about their lives. They have no idea that one of the most dangerous men on the planet is sitting in traffic just like a regular person on their way to work, glaring at taxis and stopping short so he doesn't hit the college student with the backpack who just sprinted across the street.

I take in everything I see like it's the last chance I'll ever have. If I this mission goes well, then Slade might let me come with him more often. This is my chance to earn the world back; to be a part of it again instead of stuck watching helplessly from up above.

* * *

The scenery starts to look familiar. I straighten, eyes glued to the window as the exit sign for Gotham Harbor comes into view. Slade glances over at me, and I know he's taking in everything.

Neither of us say anything. The cuffs around my wrist ache, a perfect reminder that no matter how homesick I am, I'm trapped. I'm stuck with Slade and the harder I fight, the tighter the cuffs are going to get.

Instead of saying anything and giving Slade an invitation to stab at an open wound, I lean my head against the window. The cool glass feels nice against my skin, and I didn't realize how much my face heated up from the surge of emotions.

This sucks.

I just want to go home. I wish this was just another carpool home from a mathletes competition, and that I was on my way home to celebrate a new trophy with my family. I wish I wasn't chained to the passenger seat on the way to go help the man who kidnapped me kill another human being for money.

But life isn't fair sometimes. Honestly, life isn't fair ever.

* * *

The drive stretches on for hours. My wrists feel sweaty under the cuffs and I hate this so much. But I need to prove to Slade that I can do this.

To my left, there are trees. To my right, there are even more trees. If Slade asked, I could tell him all about what kinds of trees they are and how it would be possible to tell what state we're in based on the foliage and all the other useless plant knowledge that built up over years spent fighting Poison Ivy, but we're also on a highway. If he wants to know where we are, there's a sign for exit 29 towards Concord fifty feet in front of us.

"You're usually more talkative than this." Slade says wryly.

"I… I didn't want to bother you."

Slade snorts, smoothly changing lanes.

"Well that's certainly a first."

* * *

My wrists are totally numb by the time we pass the sign welcoming us into Maine. My back hurts and I'm so antsy from sitting still for this long that I'm ready to crawl out of my skin.

* * *

The car pulls to a gentle stop and Slade kills the engine. The sudden silence is… unnerving. Especially after months of having the constant background noise of cars and people at all hours of the day. Double especially after six straight hours in the car, with the engine and the AC and the radio playing hits from the sixties for most of the drive.

"We're here." Slade says. Here is apparently a small, empty parking lot made of gravel, nested in a cluster of thick trees. It looks like a million other nature spots that mark the start of a hiking trail.

Instead of asking what we're doing in the middle of the woods, I wait for Slade to open my door and remove the cuffs. I climb out and stretch my back, rubbing my wrists to get the circulation back. The red welts digging into my wrists hurt, but I know they'll be gone soon.

Slade hands me a huge backpack, and I put it on. He takes another, even bigger bag out, closes the trunk and heads for the start of the trail.

There's nothing for me to do except follow him.

* * *

A few months ago, one of my friends (a proudly self-described couch potato) said that the worst part of a long hike was just... all of it. Babs and I made fun of them, but now? I take it back. I take it all back.

This.

Fucking.

Sucks.

For one thing, it's such a stupidly long hike. My feet hurt really badly and I'm sore and exhausted. These shoes were not designed for long hikes on rocky, slippery, branch-filled trails. If my balance wasn't good enough to balance on one hand between a pit of smiling piranhas and a vat of Joker-brand acid, I'd be tripping and tumbling all over the place. Slade has no problems, but why would he? He's wearing top-of-the-line hiking boots. He's glanced at me exactly two times in the last few hours we've been hiking, but I don't need to see the look on his face to know he's probably enjoying how much trouble I'm having. I ball my hands into fists and try my best to shake away the annoyance.

This is a test. I know it is, and I need to pass. I can do this.

Plus, unless the target is camping deep in the woods, this isn't a regular contract. Slade wouldn't use something that important as a test for me. There isn't a chance in the universe. That means I just have to suck it up and keep my head together.

I can do this.

* * *

The sun goes down. Slade doesn't break pace, even when it gets dark enough that I wipe out over a tree branch. He just yanks me back up by the arm, passes me a flashlight, and keeps walking.

I bite down the urge to ask how he has any idea where he's going, but he would have told me if he wanted me to know. We're not going to walk forever, even if it feels like we already have.

* * *

It has to be close to five hours before we stop. There's a small clearing where the ground is relatively flat compared to the mountains we've just climbed, and there's a good amount of distance between the trees.

I look up, barely able to see the stars between the thick cover of trees. We've been outside long enough that the sounds are familiar, and I can pick out the owls from the crickets and the wind rustling through the leaves. It's a better thing to focus on than how scarily silent Slade is being.

"You said you like camping, didn't you?" Slade asks and I jump, not expecting him to actually acknowledge me after hours of silence. It takes me way too long to remember what he's talking about but by then, he's already pulled a tent out of the backpack I was carrying. No wonder it was so heavy.

"Start setting it up." Slade says. "I'll be back with firewood."

He disappears into the darkness and for a few seconds, I can only stare. He's… he's coming back, right? He didn't just drag me out all this way to abandon me in the middle of the woods. Right?

Unless this is the test.

Holy shit, is this some kind of survival test? To see how well I'll do on my own, or prove how helpless I am without him?

Shit. Please, please, I know the universe is out to get me but PLEASE don't let this be the test.

Focus.

I force myself to take a breath and hold it. I'm not just some helpless kid. Batman trained me for survival in weird places, I know how to keep myself alive. Besides, I have supplies, I have a shelter and a bottle for water, and we've passed a bunch of edible plants during the hike. I'll be fine.

But Slade said to set up the tent, so even if this is a test (and especially if it's not), that's a good idea.

I'm not super experienced at pitching a tent, but it's not that hard to figure out. Definitely not harder than weaving a net out of bolo wires in an artificial polar vortex, thanks for that one, Dr. Freeze.

Slade comes back about fifteen minutes after I finish setting it up, hauling an armful of firewood. He gets to work building a fire, not sparing me or the tent more than a second's glance. As soon as the fire's going, he hands me an MRE from his bag and warns, "Sleep while you can. We're moving at first light."

* * *

Day 91

* * *

Slade is true to his word. It can't be later than four in the morning when he drags me up and starts packing up the tent. I think it's another hour before I actually wake up, and surprise, surprise, we're still hiking by then.

My back hurts. The tent was slightly better than sleeping on the ground, but Slade apparently didn't think sleeping bags were important.

How much longer are we going for? The car is at least a seven-hour hike behind us and it doesn't seem like Slade has any intention of stopping any time soon.

It's taking all the self-control I have not to start complaining and demanding answers. Maybe he's waiting for me to break. Maybe this is just an endurance test to see how much I'll put up with before I snap.

I'm not going to snap. I can do this.

I can do this.

This is my only chance to prove myself.

I'm not going to waste it because my feet hurt and I'm tired and it's freezing out here at this time of the morning.

Suddenly, Slade stops and pulls out a pair of binoculars.

"There we go." He says, grinning. My stomach sinks. "Put everything down there."

I put my bag down, taking the chance to recover from lugging the heavy thing around. That's when I notice what kinds of things Slade is unpacking from his bag. He slides a long, rectangular case out and sets it on the ground.

I stare in horror as he constructs a hunting rifle, complete with detachable scope and four-pound trigger.

"Come over here." Slade orders, nodding at the space beside him. I can't tear my eyes off the gun in his hands, even as my feet move me into place.

"…Slade?" The word falls out of my mouth, so pathetically small and confused and scared.

"You asked to come on a job. Here we are. There's your target." Slade says, handing me the binoculars. His hand lands heavily on my shoulder to angle me in the right direction.

The first feeling is relief that I'm not staring at another hiker deep in the woods. That relief is immediately replaced by dread when the doe bends down to nibble at the plants on the ground. Everything clicks into place suddenly; Slade's taking me deer-hunting. This is a test and I am not going to fail. I can't. There are no points for trying, no consolation prize. I either pass or I fail, and if I fail, it's back to square zero. Maybe even less than that.

Slade pulls away the binoculars and replaces it with the rifle.

It's heavy. I feel sick holding it, and even more nauseous when Slade tugs me into position.

He steps to the side, arms crossed over his chest. Of course he's not going to do this for me, it wouldn't be much of a test if he did.

I raise the rifle, positioning my eye behind the scope so I have the deer right in the crosshairs. It's just one clean shot, and then it'll be over. The animal won't suffer.

I just have to kill it. The deer doesn't deserve to die, but life isn't fair and I have to pass this test. I can't blow the only chance Slade is giving me to prove I'm trustworthy. I have to do this. Besides, it's not like I'm a vegetarian. I have no moral high-ground here— it's the circle of life and all that and I'm just stretching this out even though it's making it so much worse.

If I'm going to get through this, if I want to have any chance in hell, I have to be willing to do whatever it takes.

I take a breath and pull the trigger.

There's a bang. The woods suddenly come to life as the birds and squirrels flee the area, and the deer goes sprinting away.

I stare at the empty clearing where there should be a dead deer.

"What?"

"Well, that's a surprise. You actually did it." Slade looks impressed as he steps forward and pulls the rifle out of my hands.

"What happened? I… I don't…"

"You didn't think I would actually hand you a loaded gun, did you Richard?" Slade asks. "Especially considering how suspicious your behavior has been."

"I wasn't being suspicious." I say numbly. Slade actually laughs.

"You didn't talk back to me once. I handcuffed you to the seat for a six-hour drive and you didn't say a word about it, to say nothing of your silence during this excursion. It's true that your attitude has been improving lately, but not nearly enough to submit yourself to all of that without complaint."

"I… but… it was a test, wasn't it?"

"Of course it was. It was a test to see whether or not you'd try something stupid at the first opportunity to escape."

"I wouldn't…"

"You weren't tempted?" Slade asks, holding up the rifle to check its alignment. "I was standing just outside your line of sight, all you had to do was turn five inches to the left and you could've taken me out with a headshot."

I shake my head, but I can't think of anything to say.

"You must have thought about it. I would be disappointed if you didn't."

"It would be a death sentence." I say.

"How so?"

"We're seven hours from the car, at least. I'd never be able to find my way back to it. I don't have enough water to wander indefinitely, and I don't have any way to call for help. I might have a chance if I scream for Superman, but there's almost no way he'll hear me."

"Good. You're being observant. I'm proud of you for being smarter than that." Slade says. My heartbeat picks up. He puts the rifle on the ground and reaches for something else. "That being said, I'll give you another chance."

He holds something up and my heart jumps in my chest. It's his phone.

"Working satellite connection allows me to get service nearly anywhere on the planet. You could contact whoever you want, they'll be here in minutes. You can move on with your life, attempt to pick up the pieces, try to make up for the betrayal and all the pain."

"What's the catch?" I ask, heart pounding.

Slade grabs my wrist and drags me forward. He holds up a pistol in his other hand.

"Two shots." Slade aims at a tree nearby and blows a thick branch clean off. I can feel the heat from the recoil as he presses the gun into my palm and wraps my fingers around it. "This is your chance. Freedom. Everything you want. And all you have to do to get it…"

He drags my hand up so the gun presses in to the underside of his chin, perfectly poised to blow his brains out.

"…is pull the trigger."

"No!" I try to pull away, but I can't break free of his grip. "What are you doing? I'm not going to shoot you!"

"Why not? You're trying to gain my trust, because you'll need it for whatever plans you're working on. I'm saving you the hassle. End this, here and now. You'll get what you want, and I get what I want."

"How is this what you want?!" My voice sounds frantic and I don't know if it's from the lack of sleep or the gun in my hand or the fact that killing Slade is… unthinkable.

"Because if you kill me, I win. You're my legacy, Richard. Once you've killed someone, you can never go back to the Bat's ridiculous rules, that line he's drawn in the sand."

"Let me go! I'm not shooting you!" I shout, trying to pull away. Slade's other hand snaps up, grabbing my wrist tightly.

"Then what was the point of all this? Why are you so desperate to gain my trust if it's not a trap?"

"I just want to go outside!" I shout.

Slade drops his hands away, and I let the gun fall to the ground the instant I can. My arms are wrapped around my stomach and I feel sick.

"That's what this is about?" Slade asks.

"Yes! You win, okay?! I told you, I'm done fighting! I can't do it anymore! I can't stay in that stupid apartment with the same walls and the same… I can't do it! All I wanted was to go outside and I asked and there was so much you gave me instead and I didn't want to lose that but I just… I didn't know how else to prove it to you! I thought if I came on a mission you'd see that you can trust me to go outside and I wouldn't have to be trapped anymore!"

"Well. That does explain it. I'm happy to tell you that you've succeeded in earning my trust."

"I… what?"

"You wanted my trust, Richard. You have it." He steps closer, the hand on my shoulder never tightening. Holy shit. He… means it? "I don't think I need to tell you how dire the consequences will be if you betray that trust."

Holy shit, he means it.

"No sir."

Slade lets go, turning away to pack up the rifle. In the time it takes him to clear the area and hand me back my bag, my brain has finally started to process his words. I did it.

"Are we going back to the car?" I'm almost afraid to ask, but at this point I'm so giddy I would walk another seven hours if he told me to. I passed. I passed both of Slade's tests, and all the ones that came before. I did it.

"No." Slade slings his pack over his shoulder. "Let's go."

"Am I allowed to complain now?" I call after him, not even trying to fight the smile on my face.

"It's close. You'll survive." Slade answers.

It's easy to catch up to him, and it turns out, he was telling the truth this time too. After five minutes, the tree line folds away to reveal a firepit and a small cabin tucked into the trees.

"How many safehouses do you have?" I ask.

"Enough." Slade answers. "Here."

He passes me a key. My brain freezes in place and it takes me an embarrassingly long time to stop staring at it. Slade just gave me the key to the safehouse.

"The room to the left of the bathroom is yours. Take a shower before you crash, you need one."

And with that, Slade pulls off his hiking pack and disappears into the cabin. I look behind me at the enormous trees circling the property and the blue sky peeking out from behind gray clouds. I could run. Close my eyes and make a break for it.

There's nothing stopping me.

Nothing.

I turn around and follow Slade inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm DYING to know what you're thinking, and I hope you're enjoying all this suffering as much as I'm enjoying it. Please be sure to leave me a comment if you liked this chapter! I can't tell you how much it means to me to hear from you guys, especially when you tell me what you liked and what hurt you the most :)
> 
> Thank you again for reading! I can't wait to hear from you and find out what you think is going through Dick's head!


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's December. And that means we've almost made it through this insane year. I want to take a second and thank you all so much for reading and supporting this story, your comments and kudos are absolutely wonderful and it makes me so happy you're enjoying it.
> 
> I'm absolutely thrilled with how this chapter turned out and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do! On with the story!

* * *

Dick Grayson

The cabin in the woods

* * *

When I wake up, I have no idea where I am.

Honestly, it says a lot about how messed up my life is that waking up in a weird room has become such a regular occurrence. Compared to that first day when I woke up on the couch in New York after Slade kept me drugged and unconscious for god-knows how long, this is nice. This is really nice.

It takes me a couple of seconds of staring at the logs and rough-hewn wooden walls before the last few days come back to me. The hike from the woods to the cabin is a blur, and I really, truly do not ever want to think about the fact that Slade made me hold a loaded gun to his head because there is way too much for me to deal with there, but I remember that Slade gave me a bowl of… something, and then pointed me to a room before I crashed.

I have no idea what time it is, but it feels like I just slept for an entire day.

It feels…amazing. Well, it feels amazing to not be exhausted; the rest of my body hurts like I ran a marathon. Mostly just my feet and my back so I think I'll survive, but only if I can get past the shock.

Slade gave me the key to the safehouse. It's still sitting right there on the side table exactly where I left it.

This is real.

I did it. I really did it.

There's a small duffle bag by the bed and there's enough of my clothes for a few days. I don't… I don't really want to think about what it means that Slade had this ready. So instead of thinking about that, I sling the bag over my shoulder and head for the bathroom.

Taking a shower without having to time it is lifechanging. Betraying my family is almost worth it if it means Slade's going to let me have more than five minutes of water. Washing all the dirt, sweat and grime off is amazing on its own, but being able to just let hot water pour over my head? This might be the best thing that's ever happened to me.

By the time I dry off, brush my teeth (with toothpaste that doesn't even taste like it's from an army surplus store!), and put on clean clothes, I feel like an entirely new person.

No.

I just feel like a person again.

Slade is sitting in worn red armchair in the living room, looking as relaxed as I've ever seen him while he reads through a thick book. He inclines his head at me when I walk in, but other than that, he doesn't acknowledge me.

"What time is it?" I ask. There's no sign of a clock anywhere and I hate being disoriented.

"Quarter of eleven."

I blink. For the last three months, Slade's been making me get up before six in the morning. The idea of him letting me actually sleep in is ridiculous enough that I almost laugh. Now there's a bad idea.

Instead of doing something that might piss him off, I say, "You never let me sleep that late."

"Yesterday, I put you through an extremely intense situation on three hours of sleep. Your body needed a chance to recuperate." Slade says, paging through his book. "Don't get used to it."

That's more like it. I look around the living room, taking in the rustic furniture, the homey decorations, and the pictures on the mantle. I hesitate before picking up one of the photographs. There's a man and a woman with their arms slung around each other, holding a baby in between them. It's a cute baby but the man doesn't look anything like Slade. Plus, he has two eyes.

"Who are they?" I ask, still staring at the photo.

"Not a clue. This cabin is a rental."

"Oh. So… are we staying here now?" I ask slowly. Slade looks up and I flinch, scared that I asked something I shouldn't.

"Only for a few days." Slade pauses. "This is a good opportunity to train for extreme survival situations. You'll also benefit from some sunlight."

I blink at him.

"Slade are we… on vacation?"

"That depends. Do you consider spending several days in the wilderness attempting to survive off the land and keep yourself alive despite the elements to be a relaxing break?"

I think about it for a second and honestly, I've done worse. Especially considering the last few months of being cooped up inside the apartment, stuck staring out at the world like a fish in an aquarium and wishing that I could go outside more than anything in the world. I'll take a few days of survival training. And if Slade isn't going to actively be trying to kill me, then this will absolutely be the least stressful thing I've done this entire year.

"I mean… kind of."

"Then I suppose this is a vacation." Slade looks amused for the few seconds it takes him to pretend he's not. "There's a sandwich for you in the kitchen, feel free to amuse yourself for the rest of the day. There should be some books around here somewhere if you're interested. Any questions?"

"Can I go outside?"

"You don't need to ask. Just be back inside before eight."

"Uh… how will I—"

Slade tosses me something and when I catch it, I'm holding a watch. My heart catches in my throat; it's nothing fancy, but it's a real watch that really keeps track of time. I stare at Slade, waiting for the hammer to fall or the other shoe to drop but he doesn't say anything. He just inclines his head as he meets my gaze.

"Thank you." My voice is quiet and I can't tear my eyes away even as my hands tighten around the watch band.

"Don't lose it. I'm not getting you another one if you do." Slade says, but I can hear the unsaid, "You're welcome."

* * *

It's beautiful outside. I love trees. I love grass. I love the sky. I love not being stuck inside an apartment building that's a glorified prison cell, or handcuffed to the seat of a car for six hours straight. This is amazing.

I wonder if I'll ever be able to take it for granted again.

Walking through the woods is infinitely more fun when you're taking an easy stroll around the property than marching for hours and hours on end without any clue of where you are or where you're going or what's going to happen when you stop. That is not fun.

But this? This is everything I've been dreaming of through months and months of isolation and being trapped inside the same walls day after day. Fresh air and sunlight with only a little bit of wind chill. I think it's March, but it gets hard to tell. If it is March, it's a stunning day.

Blue sky, clouds, sunlight, plenty of trees in every direction. Nowhere to go and nowhere I have to be.

It's incredible.

A gunshot goes off in the direction of the safehouse and the spell breaks, the calm disintegrating into panic.

What the hell was that?!

I freeze for a second, then I'm sprinting back in that direction as fast as my legs will take me. My heart pounds and my head spins. What if someone found us? What if Slade killed them? What if it was the police? What if it wasn't?!

It takes way too long for the cabin to come back into view once I'm out of the woods and another crack fills the air before I can see anything.

When I can see, my feet stumble to a halt.

Oh.

There's a shooting range set up in the clearing behind the cabin and Slade is staring down the barrel of a very large rifle. He puts the gun down, pulling the protective headgear off and glancing over at me with the casual ease of someone who wasn't expecting to see me but isn't surprised either.

"You didn't go very far. I expected you to be halfway back to the car by now." Any other time, I'd think Slade was trying to rile me up but now, I let the words roll off my back. He's just teasing me anyways. At least… I think he is.

"What are you doing?" I ask, sticking my hands into the pockets of my jeans so Slade can't see how badly they're shaking. My heart is going a billion beats a second and my lungs are burning.

"Target practice." Slade reloads the rifle, hands moving so fast I can barely follow the motions. So I don't try to. Instead, I point to an old picnic table, where almost an entire armory has been set up on top of the rotting wood.

"What's all that for?"

"Routine maintenance.

"Oh." I say, relieved.

"What did you think they were for?"

"…hunting?" I offer weakly. Slade glances over at me and raises an eyebrow, looking unimpressed.

"Would you like to go hunting?"

"No." I answer honestly, trying not to sound scared. Slade's been… nice since we got here, but he made me hold a gun to his head yesterday. I'm not taking any chances.

"That's what I assumed."

I take a deep breath, trying to fill my lungs again. Slade turns back to the range and gets back to target practice. The gunshot is deafening as it cracks through the air and I wince. I could go back to my walk, but instead I grab the other pair of earmuffs off the table and settle on the ground to watch Slade shoot.

He's insanely good at it. Just because I hate guns doesn't mean that I can't appreciate skill. Slade switches weapons a few times, cycling through a shotgun, another pair of rifles and a few different pistols. His aim is just as deadly and precise with all of them.

He reloads the pistol in his hand so fast I can't see him do it and empties the magazine into the target, forming a near-perfect circle. I can feel myself staring, which means Slade definitely notices it when he turns around and gestures for me to take my headgear off.

"Do you have any experience tracking?" He asks. I blink.

"IP addresses or Riddler clues?"

"At least your sense of humor is intact." Slade shakes his head, looking much less annoyed than he sounds. "Do I need to remind you to take this seriously?"

"Sorry. I am taking it seriously. And yes, I do."

Slade probably won't count tracking down the League's tech in the middle of the Bialyan desert since technically I had GPS, but I definitely deserve points for it. Being memory-wiped in the middle of the desert with a few protein bars and nowhere near enough water sucked.

Besides, there was that time Batman and I got stranded on a private island with a rich millionaire big-game hunter trying to beat us in "the most dangerous game". I bet Slade's never had to track down someone who's actively trying to kill him while avoiding death traps and giant robotic hunting dogs, all while laying a fake trail to lead him into another trap. That General Zarroff-wannabe was completely wrong though. Hunting people for sport has nothing on Knife Monopoly.

What is my life?

"Good. Starting tomorrow morning, you have until sundown to find me."

My stomach tightens.

"What happens if I don't?"

"Then we have additional training sessions beginning at 4:30 in the morning for the rest of the week."

"Oh." I breathe, the fear in my stomach fading. Slade said I earned his trust, but it's not going to be that easy to stop expecting him to hurt me. "Wait, 4:30?! Are you serious?"

"You do your best work when you have enough incentive to succeed."

I exhale, forcing the tension out of my shoulders.

"Fine. What else do I need to know?"

"I expect that this will be a challenge for you… but you finally have a chance to prove that you're as adept at certain skills as you claim to be."

* * *

Slade is gone by the time I wake up. My plan to wake up before he left and follow him went out the window as soon as I realized I don't have a way to wake myself up. There's no alarm clock in here, nothing to keep time but the analogue watch Slade gave me. My iPod has an alarm but it's back in New York.

I check my watch and it's just after seven. The safehouse is empty and suddenly, the plan to try and track Slade down in the woods is… less than appealing. I should go out and try to find him. That's what Slade said I had to do.

But Slade's not here. He's not going to know the difference if I try to track him down and fail, or if I just never leave the safehouse at all.

There's a couple ways this could go. Slade might be out in the woods and I might have a real chance to track him down. Or, this whole thing might be rigged and there's no chance I'll find him even if I spent all day outside burying my face in the dirt to pick up his trail. And, of course, the last one is that Slade never left and is testing me to see if I'm going to start snooping around the instant he leaves me alone.

That last one seems like exactly the kind of thing Slade would do.

I can't risk that.

He'll know if I never leave the cabin. There's no way he won't. Even if he actually did trust me, there's no way he wouldn't have safeguards.

Spending all day snooping around the cabin is a terrible idea. Because Slade isn't that careless, even if he was being serious when he said he trusted me. He said I have until sundown to find him, that means I'll be outside for a few hours. I'll need to eat enough food now that I don't need to stop and come back to the cabin, and I'll definitely need water.

For all I know, Slade has a huge head start. I need to be able to move fast and have enough supplies with me that I can keep moving all day if I have to. One of the backpacks from the hike a few days ago is still sitting in the main room with the original supplies inside. I pull out the binoculars and the tent, and that's when I notice a folded hunting knife at the bottom of the bag. I check the very sharp blade before folding it up and sticking it in my pocket. That could definitely come in handy.

There's not much in the kitchen but I dig out a few granola bars from the pantry and fill a few empty bottles with clean water. I can't take too much more or the bag is going to get heavy, but this should be good enough. There's a container of bug spray on the end table next to the couch, and I hesitate for a second before grabbing it. You never know what you need to be prepared for. It's chilly outside, but I should be warm enough if I keep moving. That's one of the only things that might be in my favor; Slade won't stay in one spot if it's too cold. And as long as he's moving, there might be a trail I can follow.

I head for the woods… and I don't see anything. They literally just look like trees. There are impressions in the grass, but I know for a fact that I left at least half of them when I was walking around yesterday.

Okay. Focus. I can do this.

Besides, worst comes to worst, waking up at 4:30 isn't the worst thing I've ever had to. Not by a long shot. I've got this.

* * *

Okay. I take it back. It's been almost five hours and I am losing my mind. I've been in this clearing twice already; I even marked that exact tree with an 'x' after the second time I passed through. Someone has been through this spot, and I'm positive that branch on the ground with the red leaves wasn't broken last time.

I found a trail; big depressions in the mud left by someone heavy who was moving quickly, with a trail of broken sticks and twigs interspersed with the footsteps. I followed it for half an hour and ended up right back in the same clearing. And then there was a new trail that led in a different direction. One that definitely wasn't there the first time.

So I followed that one, and the stupid thing led me right back here.

Slade's messing with me.

Wait a second.

Slade's messing with me.

He's probably been messing with me this entire time. He said I had to find him; he never said anything about how far away he'd be.

"I know you're here." I announce to the empty woods, scanning through the dense treeline to try and find the figure that has to be out there. "You said I had until sundown to find you, I found you. Is that good enough or do I have to prove it?"

I hear leaves rustle and I whip around, only to find a gun pointed at my head. On instinct, I throw myself out of the way and that's when the fight starts. I scoop a few rocks off the ground, chucking them at Slade so he has to either bat them away or let his visibility be impaired. While he's distracted, I rush forward to try to disarm him.

It doesn't work.

Slade is faster, fast enough to turn his wrist over before I can knock the weapon away. He moves with the motion, letting me overcommit before swinging his fist back at my head. The barrel of the gun nearly slams into my temple and I barely get a hand up in time to block.

The force of the hit makes my palm burn but I can't let that slow me down.

I grab Slade's wrist to anchor myself before whipping my leg around in a hook-kick that catches Slade in the face.

Or at least, it's supposed to. Instead, Slade uses the hand on his wrist as a pivot point to throw me to the ground. My back hits the dirt, the wind flying out of my lungs. I roll out of the way before Slade's foot lands on my chest.

I barely have time to get back on my feet—let alone catch my breath—before Slade is charging. We exchange blows, and it's one of the most intense sparring sessions we've ever had. I land a few hits, Slade lands a lot more hits, but it's been a long day and my backpack has gotten heavy after hours of lugging it around and I'm going to get tired way before Slade does.

Wait! The backpack!

I rip my backpack off and hurl it at Slade's head. He knocks it away, and that fraction of a second is enough of a distraction that I land a kick to the stomach. The hit is strong enough to knock Slade into a tree. My knife is in my hand the next second, pointed at the underside of Slade's chin.

"Found you." I pant, my chest rising and falling with exhaustion. Forget vacation, this has been a really stressful trip. Slade smirks, glancing down at the knife I have trained on him.

"Not bad, Richard. It only too you five hours and twenty-one minutes."

"So I win?"

"For today." Slade concedes. Then his hand snaps up, disarming me and shoving me out of arm's reach. He looks down at the knife and inspects the blade before folding it in half and tossing it back to me. "Tomorrow, it's your turn to run."

"What?"

"I have five hours and twenty minutes to find you. Let's see how well that disappearing act of yours holds up."

Oh, that is going to suck. Like I said; this is a damn stressful vacation.

* * *

Jason Todd

The Watchtower

* * *

Jason couldn't breathe.

Batman didn't say anything but he was alive and he was okay and he was just staring at Jason. Jason couldn't breathe, couldn't feel anything but Babs' hand on his arm.

Why wasn't Batman saying anything? Why wasn't anyone saying anything?

"What do we—" Jason started to ask, but his dad cut him off before he could get any farther.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Batman's voice was a low growl and it was the scariest thing Jason had ever heard in his life.

"I—"

"We had to do something!" Babs found her voice first.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?!"

"Of course we knew!" Jason said.

"What else were we supposed to do?!" Babs demanded when that only made the glare on Batman's face deepen.

"The team needed our help!" Jason added.

"Well I need you ali—" His dad cut himself off mid-word before taking a deep breath. Batman glared at Jason with the full weight of a disappointed father. "Go back to the Batcave. Right now. We'll talk about this later."

"What? Are you kidding me?! We're not going anywhere!" Babs spat.

"This is not up for discussion!" Batman glowered.

"That's all you have to say?!" Babs demanded. "We just saved you and the entire league! If it wasn't for us, you'd still be mind-controlled and Superman would still be on route to plunge the entire planet into a new Ice Age!"

"Barbara." Batman hissed, grabbing her arm and pulling her closer. "Not. Now."

Babs went still. Jason's head spun, and it took him another few seconds to process the sound of Zatanna frantically crying out spells behind him.

"We can fix him!" Zatanna shouted, but Jason had no idea what she said next, because Hawkwoman was dragging herself through the doorway, one of her wings covered in blood and Roy's arm slung over her other shoulder.

Jason gasped, staring at Roy in shock. He… he couldn't be dead. He couldn't be. That wasn't possible, that… he had to be… was he…

"He's just unconscious." Babs's voice was in his ears while her hand squeezed Jason's, and he let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. "He's okay."

"I will do everything in my power to restore him." His dad promised Zatanna, and that was when Jason realized Batman wasn't right next to him anymore. There were a few seconds of silence before Zatanna started to sob. Batman hesitated, glancing back at Jason and his stomach dropped at the look on his dad's face.

Batman turned back to the League and the Team, and Jason had no idea how to deal with the fact that his dad looked… lost. Jason's heart pounded in his chest, so loud he could barely hear anything else going on. Now that it was over, the last few hours were catching up to him.

The whole Justice League had been attacked. Red Tornado _died_. Jason had somehow managed to survive fighting the entire League at once, including his own mind-controlled dad. And that was all before Babs fell off the highest point in the Watchtower. If Superboy hadn't caught her…

…well, she'd fallen from a lot higher than a trapeze.

"We need to regroup. We'll… Aqualad, you and—"

"Batman. Take them home." Wonder Woman cut him off, her voice heavy as she placed a hand on his shoulder. "I will handle this. You need to be with them."

"I can't leave now."

"Go." Aunt Diana's tone left no room for argument, and Jason wondered what it was like to be unshakable. The world almost ended, she'd been captured and mind-controlled with everyone else, and somehow she stood strong, confident and whole. "The rest of you, we need to regroup and that means I need your full cooperation. Manhunter, Miss Martian, finish securing Psimon and make sure the two of you are ready when Red Arrow wakes up. Anyone who's hurt, I don't care if it's just a scrape, head to the medbay right now. Aquaman, take Hawkwoman to medical and bring in a surgeon from our call list. I want to know as soon as you do whether she'll need surgery. Lanterns, you're with me to retrieve Superman."

"We'll go with you." One of the Superboys said. "Just in case."

"Good. Captain Atom, Dr. Fate, get the Flash unfrozen."

"What can I do?" Kid Flash demanded. Wonder Woman hesitated for a second before answering.

"Monitor his vitals. Make sure his core temperature doesn't drop. And Canary…"

Wonder Woman trailed off, but Black Canary nodded and moved to stand behind Zatanna. The magician was staring numbly at Tornado's unmoving body, and a chill ran down Jason's spine. That kind of numbness, the all-consuming emptiness that buried everything else; it was the thing waiting for him whenever things went wrong. It hadn't gone away since the day Dick disappeared.

"Let's go." Batman said, the hand on Jason's shoulder tightening. Jason looked at Babs to follow her lead, but she just nodded at him.

"Okay." Jason said quietly. All around them, the heroes had started to disperse. All except for Artemis and Black Canary, who were huddled around a sobbing Zatanna and the hunk of metal that used to be Red Tornado.

"Wait." Wonder Woman's voice echoed through the hall before they could take more than a few steps. "We cannot begin to express our gratitude for what you have all done. We owe you an enormous debt. One of our own was lost in this fight and the ten of you prevented a truly unimaginable toll. There will be time to mourn, and we will take the time to honor Tornado's memory even as we search for a way to restore him. But for now, we have work to do."

* * *

Selina Kyle

I-84, somewhere between Boston and Gotham

* * *

Selina's foot didn't come off the gas pedal once on the entire drive back from Boston. It still wasn't enough. The hours stretched out into interminable agony; Bruce wasn't answering his phone and she couldn't contact the manor either. By the time she got back, hours had passed and it was all she could do to hold back the panic. The manor was terrifyingly quiet and horribly empty.

"Bruce?" She called, her voice echoing in the entrance hall. "Alfred?"

No answer.

Selina practically ran up the main staircase, rounding the corner and throwing open the door to the girls' suite. The lights were still on in the sitting room, but neither of the girls were in their rooms. Selina's breath caught, panic seizing her lungs. On the other end of the hall, Tim's room was dark, but there was no sign of the little boy. The lights were still on in Jason's room, his laptop sitting open on his desk and his chair flung to the side like he'd left in a hurry.

"Alfred?!" Selina called, her voice echoing uselessly off the walls. The door to Dick's room was open, just a tiny crack. Selina steeled herself and pushed the door open all they way, coming face-to-face with…

…an empty room. Perfectly clean, just like Alfred left it.

The air rushed out of Selina's lungs like a punch in the chest.

Focus.

Selina took a deep breath and exhaled sharply. The manor was enormous and there were still plenty of other rooms the kids could be in. She took a second to pull herself together, then tried to think of where frightened children might go to sleep.

Almost as soon as she'd had the thought, she turned around and made a beeline for the Master bedroom on the other side of the Manor. She practically flung the doors open, her stomach dropping in relief at the sight of tiny figures curled up under the covers. Cassie was in the middle, Stephanie and Tim each holding one of her hands. It would have been adorable if it wasn't so completely heartbreaking. Even in the dim lighting, it was clear to see that their fear had followed them to sleep. Still, fitful sleep was better than nothing.

"Miss Selina," Alfred startled, and it was only then that she noticed the butler sitting in an armchair in the corner of the room. He looked exhausted; his head had a few more gray hairs and the lines on his face were more pronounced than usual.

"Alfred!" Selina breathed, taking the old man by the shoulders and squeezing gently. "Are you alright? Are the kids okay?"

"They were terribly worried, but they are alright."

"What happened? What's going on?"

"I believe it would be best to relocate. I'd hate to wake the children now."

Alfred led her out of the room and back into the hall.

"Master Bruce was called away to the Watchtower just before this debacle began. I can scarcely imagine what must be occurring at the moment."

"Where's Jason?" Selina asked. Alfred sighed and Selina's heart broke in half all over again.

"The Watchtower."

"What?!" Selina gasped, her heart pounding in her chest.

"He and Miss Gordon took it upon themselves to… rectify the situation."

"Jesus Christ! Where are they? Are they okay?!"

"Master Jason has informed me that he and Miss Gordon have joined forces with Master Dick's— with the team. Unfortunately, that is as much as I have heard from them."

"Fuck. I'm going after them." She pulled off her overcoat, revealing Catwoman's costume underneath. Selina pulled her hair back to pull on her mask before securing her whip in place, and finally tugging on her gloves and flexing her newly-sharpened claws.

"Good luck. And… thank you, Miss Selina." Alfred squeezed her hand before patting it firmly. "Now go. There isn't any time to waste."

Catwoman was on her way to the Batcave before he finished. Going in blind was never ideal; the only thing she had on her side was that she knew how these villains worked. Any plan that didn't involve rubbing it in to the Justice League's faces that they'd been beaten meant that this was all just a distraction. Taking over the League like that meant that the real plan was happening behind the scenes. That was good.

Because that meant Catwoman had a chance to knock out whoever was piloting the League while the other villains were busy running the show.

A quiet Batcave was one of the things that Selina would never get used to. At this time of night, Batman and Robin should be out on patrol, their comms chiming in over the speakers for Alfred to respond to while the Batcopmuter plugged away at its analysis. But now, instead of the Batman's database, there were just camera feeds.

Catwoman stopped dead, staring at the Batcomputer's screen. The camera feeds showed the Watchtower from dozens of different angles. On the biggest screen, the members of the League were climbing to their feet, some of the sidekicks helping them up while the rest secured the unconscious villains.

It was over.

Jason and Barbara were clustered around Bruce, relief clear despite the battered exhaustion. They were fine, all three of them. They didn't need Catwoman's help, not for this. Not for any of it.

Selina sat down heavily, suddenly too overwhelmed to stay on her feet.

It was... over.

What was she supposed to do now?

The team didn't need her help; they'd taken care of the threat on their own. And Catwoman wouldn't exactly be welcomed to the Watchtower with open arms literal seconds after an enemy invasion. There was nothing she could do to help them.

For what felt like the millionth time in the last few months, Selina had no idea what to do. Should she go back upstairs and let Alfred get some sleep? Maybe that wouldn't be the worst idea if there was any way in hell Alfred would let his guard down until Bruce and Jason were back safely.

Selina had no idea how long she stared numbly at the screen before the Zeta beam generator whirled into action, light blazing as the machinery spun until a series of figures appeared. She was across the room before her brain caught up to the moment and she threw her arms around the first person she could reach. Bruce hesitated before bringing his arms around her and allowing himself a moment to hold her.

"Thank god." Selina breathed, the pit of terror in her stomach finally loosening after hours of complete misery. She pulled back, her hands going to the sides of his head as if she was trying to reassure herself that he was really there. "You're okay."

"Is everyone alright?" Bruce demanded, his arms squeezing a little bit tighter before letting go. Selina nodded.

"The kids are upstairs sleeping, and I'm sure Alfred knows you're back by now."

Bruce didn't say anything in answer to that. He just brought a hand up to her wrist before squeezing gently; that was all she needed. Selina stepped past him, crouching down to put a hand in Jason's hair. A spike ran through her chest at the sight of the black domino mask over his face, the red body armor and the signature "R" symbol on his chest.

The Robin uniform fit him perfectly.

And it broke her heart. In so many ways, for so many reasons; because Jason was a child. A headstrong, stubborn, caring, loyal, brave child who'd seen a crisis and couldn't stand by and do nothing. Because Jason thought he was ready to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

But most of all, because that uniform belonged to someone else and no one else had the right to wear it. Desperate times might call for desperate measures, but it was going to kill Dick if Bruce let anyone replace him. It didn't matter who.

Jason met her eyes and whatever was on Selina's face made him flinch, the look on his face hardening as he pulled away from her.

"Are you okay?" Selina asked him, staring at the space between them without any idea how to cross it.

"I'm fine."

"Catwoman," A new voice said.

Batgirl. Selina should have known she'd be back. Anyone brave enough to stare Deathstroke in the face wouldn't let anything stand in her way. And that was twice now that Barbara had gone up against insane odds and walked away unscathed.

Whatever else happened, Batgirl was in the game now. For good.

Selina took a deep breath and stepped back. Now that she knew they were all alive and in one piece, she could think again.

"What happened? Tell me everything."

Jason and Barbara exchanged looks, and then Bruce started to tell the story. Between the three of them, it took about an hour to get through everything; Bruce explained how Red Arrow had infected the first few Leaguers and brought the Light to the Watchtower, then had the other Leaguers picked off one-by-one. By the time Batman realized how many people had been summoned to the Watchtower, it was too late to mount any kind of counter attack.

Barbara picked up the story then, explaining how she'd seen Superman's announcement and done the first thing she could think of; gotten Jason to let her into the cave so she could hack the Batcomputer. The two of them got as much intel as they could before contacting Dick's teammates and arranging to meet to share what they knew.

After that, it was up to the team. Selina listening in horrified rapture as Jason joined in to describe how they'd split up, half the team tracking down the missing Leaguers and the other half taking on a robot capable of destroying entire cities. And they'd won. Somehow, the team had pulled out a win and saved the entire League.

When it was over, Selina could only stare. Then she saw the look on Bruce's face; she recognized that special combination of guilt and self-hatred anywhere. Before she could say anything, Bruce turned to Barabara and Jason.

"If there was anything that I could do to stop the two of you from ever putting on those costumes again, I would do it in a heartbeat. This job is dangerous. Neither of you need to do this. Neither of you should do this."

"Yeah, well neither should you." Jason shot back.

"I know the risks. I am always aware of what could go wrong, every single time I put my uniform on."

Barbara took a breath, steadying herself before meeting Batman's eyes. The determination on her face was matched only by the stubbornness.

"Dick needed my help. I could've helped him and I didn't. And now he's gone and I have no idea if there was anything I could have done, but all I know is I am never going to stand by when there's something I can do to help. And you need a partner. Batman and Robin never would've gotten caught in that trap. You can't do this alone, Batman." Barbara said.

"He's not alone." Selina reminded her.

"Catwoman's a villain. Unless there's been a change to the plans that I don't know about, you need to stay that way."

Batman didn't answer, and neither did Selina; Barbara was right and they all knew it. Finally, Batman sighed.

"Here's how it's going to work. The two of you are going to train. You are going to train harder than you ever have in your lives. And you are not setting foot in the field until we deem you ready."

"We are ready." Barbara said. "I'll do your training, but you're not taking me out of the field. You need me there, now more than ever."

"This is not up for debate. If you do this, you will do it my way. Do you understand?"

"Yes. I do."

"Me too." Jason added. Bruce sighed.

"Go upstairs. Alfred can arrange a guest room for you, or he can have you taken home."

"Thank you, Bruce." Barbara said. "C'mon Jay."

Bruce sunk into his chair, watching the two of them head for the elevator back up to the manor. Selina put her hands on his shoulders, wishing there was anything she could do.

"If anything happens to them…"

"I know." Selina whispered. "Bruce, I… you can't stop them. God I wish you could but… they're in this now."

"I know. Doesn't mean I have to like it."

Selina sat down next to Bruce, resting one hand on top of his.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"Tornado was destroyed."

"Oh. Shit."

"Zatanna can't stay at the cave anymore. I've talked to Dinah a few times about having her stay with her and Ollie but Zatanna doesn't want to leave. But she has to go now, she can't stay in the Cave by herself."

"And what about the League?"

"I don't know. It's going to be one hell of a mess."

"Bruce, I'm so sorry. I know this isn't enough, but whatever you need from me, I'm here."

"If you could…" Bruce trailed off.

"What do you need?"

"The kids. This is going to take all my attention to handle and I need to know they'll be taken care of."

"Of course." Selina kissed his temple before leaning in and letting their foreheads press together. "Whatever you need."

* * *

Roy Harper

The Watchtower

* * *

Roy woke up to the world's worst headache and a monster's face inches from his own.

He yelped and scrambled back, before losing his balance and crashing to the floor. The skeletal monster retreated but Roy could only stare at its spiny limbs and the pulsing red muscle protruding from its head and down its back.

'_Mind control.' _Miss Martian's voice rang through his head while the monster nodded at someone beyond his field of vision.

"Can you break it?"

'_Now that I know what to look for, yes.'_ The monster turned towards him, raising one spiny claw to gesture. That's when the pieces clicked.

"Wait, wait, wait! M'gann?!" Roy stared numbly at the monster in front of him. The monster tilted its head and Roy got the distinct impression it was almost amused. Not quite, but almost.

'_You wanted to know what I was hiding, didn't you?' _The monst—Miss Martian raised her arms and brought the tips of her long, bony fingers to rest against his forehead. Roy flinched, expecting the touch to be freezing and instead was met with warmth against his temples. _'What do you remember?'_

What _did_ he remember?

Roy's head throbbed but he still made himself answer.

"The chips. I asked Superman to meet me, but it was a trap. I infected him with a chip and then we… the Flash was there? And then I… I don't… oh god, what have I done?"

'_Your mental programming kicked in, forcing you to infect as many of the Leaguers as you could. The three of you sent out a false distress signal, tricking all the League's members into coming to the Watchtower. Once they were all incapacitated, Superman made a broadcast to the entire planet that he would push the whole planet out of orbit and trigger a mass- extinction if they didn't make him the Supreme Leader of the planet.'_

"Shit."

'_We—the Team, plus a few friends—got onto the Watchtower and disabled AMAZO while the other half took down the infected Leaguers.'_

"But Superman was… how did you beat Superman?"

'_Superboy brought some friends. Savage and Klarion got away, but we got Ivo and Psimon. And… I… we can tell you the rest later.'_

"I was the mole." Roy said numbly. M'gann nodded sadly and he grabbed her wrist. "Get it out of me. Whatever they did to my head, get it out. I don't care if you wipe out everything else with it, just get it out."

'_I will. I promise. Just close your eyes and relax.'_

Close his eyes and relax. Roy closed his eyes, but he didn't know how he was supposed to relax with the nightmare he'd just woken up from. Still, he tried his best to let the pressure poking around at his mind do what it wanted. The pressure got more intense, but just when his head was starting to ache, Roy fell.

Then…

…nothing.

By the time Roy came to, M'gann was back in her human form.

"Roy? How do you feel?" She asked cautiously, hands hovering over him like she was afraid to touch him for fear that he'd break.

"I feel… fine."

"I cleared out everything I could find, but Uncle J'onn will go over everything again. Plus, we'll need to do more screenings to really make sure…"

Roy frowned, but it was hard to listen to her when his fuzzy brain was screaming at him that he was forgetting something. Something important. Something…

OH GOD.

Kaldur.

"Where's Kaldur?!"

"I… I'm not sure, Roy. But we need to finish—"

"Did you get everything?"

"I think so, but we can't be sure until—"

"You can make sure later. This is more important. Where is he?"

M'gann frowned, but decided it wasn't worth arguing.

"I think he's in the hangar. You should hurry."

Roy was out the door before she could finish.

Kaldur _was_ in the main hangar, speaking quietly to Wonder Woman. He looked exhausted and his wrist was cast in a splint, but just the sight of him filled Roy with relief. The two of them turned at the sound of Roy's footsteps, but while Wonder Woman managed a tight smile, Kaldur just stiffened. Then he headed straight for the bioship without looking back.

"Kaldur! Kaldur, please! Wait!"

Kaldur hesitated. But he still stopped, and that was enough for a tiny spark of hope to ignite in Roy's chest.

"I'll give you two a minute." Wonder Woman said. As she passed Roy, she put a hand on his shoulder and nodded at him once. Then Roy was alone with the person he loved most and the memories of exactly how badly he'd hurt him. Roy stared at Kaldur, desperately trying to figure out what to say to fix everything.

"It's good to see you on your feet." Kaldur offered.

"Kaldur, I'm so sorry, but please tell me you're not going to leave."

Roy's voice cracked on the last word and Kaldur just gave him a sad smile.

"I know now that you were not in your right mind. Know that there are no hard feelings, my friend." Kaldur said quietly in a horribly closed-off voice.

"You can't go back to Atlantis!" Roy said hotly. "The Team needs you to stay."

"Superboy has shown himself to be a more than capable replacement. There is nothing for me here."

"Wait!" Roy exclaimed, desperation spilling into his voice. Kaldur looked at him with tired eyes, a tragic and bitter and hopeless smile on his face.

"There is nothing left to say."

"Like hell there's not!" Roy spat. "Kaldur, please listen to me. I am so, so sorry. I… what I did, what those monsters forced me to do… I'll never forgive myself for it. I have to figure out how the hell I'm supposed to live with myself now, when they've been inside my head for years. I don't know who I am, I don't know who I'm supposed to be, and I sure as hell don't know what I'm supposed to do now." Roy grabbed Kaldur's hand, squeezing it like it would disappear the second he let go. "But I can't lose you. I can't. I don't know anything else right now, except that I need you. I can't lose you, Kal, especially because they twisted my head so much that the only thing I cared about was finding those goddamn chips. I'm so sorry. Please don't leave me."

"I…"

Roy couldn't breathe.

"Please, I know you can never forgive me for what I did, and I know I don't deserve it but I need you—"

He cut off when Kaldur grabbed his head and tackled him, his lips locking over Roy's and stopping him dead. Roy stiffened for a second before his muddled brain caught up to what was happening, and then his arms wrapped around his boyfriend like that was the only thing they were capable of doing.

Nothing was okay; not the world and especially not Roy. But this? To have Kaldur, he would go through anything.

* * *

Zatanna Zatara

Mount Justice

* * *

Zatanna was curled in on herself, hands wrapped so tightly around her arms they were almost numb. She gasped for breath, chest heaving as tears dripped down her face. Hot, salty tears that stung against the cuts on her face and somewhere deep in her chest she was furious that it didn't hurt worse.

Zatanna cried, desperately trying to get a hold of herself even though she didn't want to. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair it wasn't—

"Zatanna." The double-layered voice stopped her heart and Zatanna gasped, eyes flying open to see the last person in the universe she'd ever want to.

"What the hell do you want?" Zatanna spat at Doctor Fate, fury and hatred more powerful than anything she'd felt in her life coursing through her. Her rage drowned out everything else—even the grief—and Zatanna leaned into it, embracing the anger and letting it wash away the sadness and the pain.

"I am… deeply sorry that you must endure another loss."

"Go to hell."

Doctor Fate strode into her room, bypassing the privacy spells in an effortless reminder that the Lord of Order's magic was infinitely more powerful than hers. Just another way she was helpless to stop him. Zatanna sat up on her bed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Get. Out."

"I am not without sympathy, young magician. But the world needs Doctor Fate."

"Well I need my dad!" Zatanna glared, wishing the acid in her voice was strong enough to hurt the being that was keeping her father from her.

"Your father's pain is… substantial. He bitterly regrets that he cannot provide you the comfort he wishes to, and he understands that it pales in comparison to your grief."

"That's all you came to tell me?" Zatanna spat, fresh tears spilling out when she accidentally stared Fate in the eyes and the steely green of her father's gaze stared back at her. Fate's hand rested on her shoulder and Zatanna froze; for one second, all she felt was her father's hand and love and safety. Then the spell broke and she tried to wrench herself free.

"Don't touch me!" She spat, but Doctor Fate didn't let go.

"The sacrifices that you and your father have made do not go unseen." Doctor Fate rumbled, Naboo's voice layered over her father's.

"I said, GET OUT!" Zatanna screamed, her voice breaking into a sob.

* * *

Bruce Wayne

The Hall of Justice

* * *

"How are you feeling?" Wonder Woman asked.

"World's worst headache." The Flash groaned, rubbing at his temple.

"And you're sure it's gone?" Superman looked like hell, ugly bruises blooming across his face, but he was staunchly ignoring all the scars from his fight.

"The chips have been neutralized." Aquaman confirmed. "Mera recognized the Atlanean sorcery at play and acted accordingly to disable that facet. Since the mind control abilities were directly granted by the chips, there will be no lingering effects."

"Of course, the two of you will be monitored closely for the next few weeks out of an abundance of caution." Wonder Woman added. Batman didn't miss the way the Flash's shoulder's relaxed or Superman let out a tiny breath.

"Good." Superman said.

"What do we do now?"

"The United Nations has made a formal demand that I deliver the incident report to the Security Council personally." Superman said heavily.

"They're afraid." Batman nodded. A few of the Leaguers winced, but this wasn't the time to protect anyone's feelings.

"I don't blame them. They're going to want answers for what happened, and I need to be able to assure them that it will never happen again. This can't happen again, ever."

"How do we make sure of that?"

"Tighter security? More emergency protocols? Lockdown procedures?"

"We can't."

"That's not good enough."

"Don't you get it? It doesn't matter how tight we make security or how thorough our vetting is or how safe we think we are. There's always going to be a crack. Always."

"So you propose we do nothing?"

"We diversify the risks. Make sure that anyone trying to target the League can't get to all of us. Other than that? What alternative do we have? Disband the League?"

"Members of the UN are pushing for a registration act. To have the League and all its members register."

"What a stupid idea." Green Arrow sneered.

"That's not going to happen." Batman said with finality. The League nodded in unanimous agreement.

"How do you propose we diversify?" One of the Green Lanterns asked.

"We expand. Both the League and the Team."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Hawkwoman leaned forward, wincing when it disturbed the bandages holding her stitched wing in place.

"It's nothing we haven't discussed already. Clearly our enemies have decided to make bold choices; it's we do as well." Wonder Woman said. "We cannot pretend our enemies haven't taken advantage of our weaknesses. They have. They've had access to our systems, led us down false trails, implanted not one but two of their own among us, and now this? We can't pretend it won't happen again. But there's no choice. We've all seen the news. We all know that Luthor is behind the recent push and we can't allow him to take advantage of this situation anymore than he already has."

"It does beg the question… would the world be safer without the League?" Superman's question hung heavily in the air. Aquaman frowned and the Flash's shoulders dropped. Batman couldn't deny that he'd had the same thought. More than once. 

"If we disband the League, we give our enemies exactly what they want." Wonder Woman said confidently, her voice carrying thorough the room and effortlessly tearing through the silence. "All it takes for evil to win is for good people to do nothing."

"People are scared. All across the world, people thought that this could have been the end. They need to know that we are not going to abandon them now. We cannot change the past, but we can control how we respond to it."

"Alright. Then we'll put it to a vote. All in favor?"

* * *

Tim Drake

Wayne Manor

* * *

"Steph do you have my backpack—you're crying." Tim stopped in the doorway, blinking in surprise.

"No I'm not! Go away!" Steph spat, throwing a pillow at his head while she tried to sneakily wipe her eyes. The pillow hit him in the face and Tim picked it up off the floor. Steph's eyes were red and bloodshot and Tim didn't know what to do.

"Steph, what's wrong?"

"My dad's getting out in a week and I—" Steph's lip trembled as she clung tighter to one of her stuffed animals. Cassie's tiny hand patted her on the leg twice to get her attention, before shaking her head with a big frown stretched across her face. Steph sniffed and she forced herself to take a breath. "Sorry Cass. You're right, no crying."

"You… what? No, Steph, you don't have to… you can…"

"What, you want me to just keep crying like a baby? We're not all crybabies like you, Tim." Steph glared.

"Steph, Bruce isn't really gonna-"

"You don't know what he's gonna do! He doesn't care about us Tim!"

"That's not true!"

"He doesn't! He doesn't even care about Dick, why would he care about the rest of us?!"

"He does!"

"Then why hasn't he found him yet?!"

"You're wrong." Tim said, but his chest hurt and he didn't know why.

"Well you're stupid! You're a stupid crybaby!"

Tim turned around, slamming the door to Steph's room. She was the stupid one. Stupid little sisters who thought they knew everything. She didn't know what she was talking about.

Today sucked. Stephanie was being stupid and Tim still couldn't find his stupid backpack. He stomped downstairs, checking in room after room as he went. Bruce would know where his backpack was; too bad he was still out doing Batman stuff. It wasn't fair that he had to clean-up all the mess by himself after what happened to the League, but Bruce hadn't been home long enough for Tim to tell him that.

Selina was in the entrance hall when Tim passed through, all dressed up for museum work. She would probably know where his backpack was, but she looked like she was in a hurry.

"Have a good day Tim." Selina waved, pulling on her shoes as she looked around. "Cassie? Cassie, honey? Are you ready? We're going to be late!"

Tim didn't know where Cassie came from; one second she was just there, tugging on the leg of Selina's pants. Selina jumped, looking down to see Cassie staring up at her.

"Cassie, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there!" Selina scooped her up and shifted the weight onto her hip. Tim watched them walk down the hall, past the kitchen and towards the garage. "Are you all ready? Do you need anything to eat?"

Cassie shook her head and Tim frowned.

"Alfred, I should be back at six. I'll call ahead if there's traffic. Call me if there's anything you need."

"Much appreciated, Miss Selina. Miss Cassandra, have a wonderful day and I will see you in a few hours."

Then Selina and Cassie were gone for the day and Alfred was back in the kitchen and Tim still hadn't found his stupid backpack. He checked the library and the dining room and the game room with no luck, and just when he was about to give up, he found his backpack in the living room with the big windows. The tv was on, and Tim stopped when he saw Uncle Clark on screen. Well not Uncle Clark.

Superman.

And this time, it was really him. Tim read the caption rolling across the bottom of the screen, "Superman to Address United Nations General Assembly."

"I am deeply, truly sorry for the panic and fear that this incident caused. I understand exactly why I have been called here today, and I do not blame anyone for their desire to do something as a natural reaction to it. But there is a reason that we are all standing here today, and that reason is that the safeguards that are currently in place are effective. Despite the egregious attack the League suffered, including the destruction of one of our oldest members, the remaining members were more than capable of handling the situation." Superman began, a thousand cameras flashing as he started talking. He sounded sad.

Tim didn't blame him. He would've been sad too if a supervillain had mind-controlled him into almost destroying the Earth and killing everyone on the planet.

"Is it true that the sidekicks were the ones to take down the League?" The delegate from South Rhelasia asked. Tim only knew who he was because of the caption on the screen.

"Ambassador Ryang, there are no sidekicks on the Justice League." Superman said firmly. "All of our heroes, including the younger members, are treated equally and with the same amount of respect. The attack on myself and the other members of the League resulted in the capture of only one of our active rosters; however, this is exactly the reason why we have multiple rosters. The members who were not present were able to mount a successful counterattack. I can personally assure you, the League has safeguards in place already to protect against a member of the League turning rogue, and the events of this past week has proven that they are successful."

Tim tried his best to follow what was happening, but he lost track of the flurry of questions that followed it. Politicians always talked in riddles; Bruce said they were worse than the Riddler. But it seemed like the UN people just kept asking questions that Superman didn't like.

"You don't have to have super-hearing to know that there is a push for the establishment of a database consisting of every known heroes' identities and abilities, including any weaknesses that they may possess in case a member is ever compromised again. I am here to shut that line of thought down. The creation of any such list will only put the Justice League's members and their families in danger."

"Master Timothy, if you would kindly extract yourself from the television, it's past time to head to school. Master Jason and Miss Stephanie are already in the car." Alfred called.

"Coming!" Tim turned off the tv, straightened his uniform, and pulled his backpack over his shoulders. A pair of Cassie's tiny baby shoes was sitting next to the door and Tim stopped when a thought hit him.

"Are you alright, Master Timothy?" Alfred asked.

"Did Cassie eat today?"

"I beg your pardon? I would certainly presume so, why do you ask?"

"I… Alfred?"

"Yes, Master Timothy?" Alfred still looked worried and Tim didn't know how to explain the feeling in his gut that something just wasn't right. So instead, he asked the question he really wanted to know.

"Are things going to get better?"

"I certainly hope so."

Tim frowned, staring down at Cassie's shoes.

"Me too."

"That being said, they certainly will not be better if you're late for school. I appreciate your concern for your sister, Timothy, but for now we'd better get moving."

* * *

Bruce Wayne

The Rooftop above Gotham PD

* * *

Commissioner Gordon barely paused long enough to turn off the Batsignal before turning towards Batman and launching in.

"Good, you're here. Something's wrong with the Grayson case."

All thoughts of a normal patrol disintegrated at the commissioner's words.

"What do you mean, something's wrong?"

"The feds took everything. We've been working it from our end but as soon as we put anything on paper the FBI swoops in and snatches it away. I've had people on his case since day one but we're getting stonewalled. Furman got through the feds last week, had all the paperwork in line just so he could be told the FBI doesn't have jurisdiction anymore."

"What?!" Batman demanded. "Who does?"

"The CIA."

"The CIA." Batman repeated, just to make sure he wasn't crazy. "Why the hell is a billionaire's son's disappearance being stonewalled by the CIA?"

"I don't know. Something's going on and whatever it is, it stinks. You know that we're not going to just sit back and let that kid slip under the radar. We're gonna keep pushing back on this as much as we can, but there's a hell of a lot of red tape."

Batman frowned, his mind turning over the new information to look at it from every angle. What the hell did the CIA want? Wilson had to be involved, there was no way he wasn't. And that meant Batman had missed something.

There had to be somewhere else to look. Somewhere that Batman had missed before—

Dammit.

* * *

"Superman. Come in."

"I'm here Batman. What's wrong?"

"Where are you?"

"I'm still in New York, but the last session of the day just finished. What happened, is everything okay?"

"I… I need your help. Backup."

"I'll bring Wonder Woman. Just send me the coordinates."

"Meet me at the Harris Garage in the East End." Batman told him, clenching his hands into fists to stop them from trembling.

"Wilson's old hideout? I thought you cleared it already."

"Like I said. I need backup."

"We'll be there soon. Don't do anything crazy until we get there."

"Thank you."

* * *

"Are you sure you're ready?" Superman asked quietly, glancing at the window where Wonder Woman was keeping watch.

"No." Batman forced his voice to stay low and steady, watching his breath turn to fog. "But there's something I'm missing, and I should have done this a long time ago."

Superman nodded at Wonder Woman, who disappeared from view. She would make her way around the back of the building, looking for hidden traps or surveillance. Superman shifted next to him, but Batman kept himself still despite the cold. This was just another recon mission, like any other that he'd been on before. The hideout would be long-since abandoned and Wilson should have cleared everything out. Anything that remained would be left there deliberately. To bait him.

That was why Wonder Woman and Superman were there. They'd keep him objective.

"It could be a trap." Superman pointed out.

"The rest of the League is on standby," Batman returned.

Superman judged him silently.

Batman sighed.

"I have to know, Clark," Batman said, his eyes fixed on a brick somewhere in the distance. Superman put a hand on his shoulder and nodded.

"I know."

Their comms buzzed and they both jumped. Or at least, Superman jumped while Batman's spine stiffened a bit.

"The security systems are all offline. There's cameras and tripwires all over the place, but they've been disabled for a while." Wonder Woman told them.

"Understood," Batman said. Superman started across the street, meeting Wonder Woman in front of the garage door. Superman reached down and hauled the door open, sliding the metal grating open with a grinding sound.

Batman joined them, trying to remind himself that he'd been here before, with Charlie. He was fine then, he'd be fine now. There was a loud snap as Superman pulled the industrial light switch, illuminating the dark space. Thick clouds of dust motes swirled through the air, along with the smell of stale motor oil. Batman looked around the abandoned garage. It could have been any of the other mechanic shops in Gotham city, with equipment in reasonably good condition. There were two hydraulic lifts, slightly rusted from age and use. He wondered how much time Dick had spent here, and then tried very hard not to think about that.

Superman pulled the door shut behind them.

"The entrance is through the office," Superman said. He and Wonder Woman started for the door, but Batman didn't move.

There was a smudged tire track in the cement floor near the wall, permanently staining the surface. Now that he knew what to look for, he recognized the pattern instantly. It matched the tires specially engineered for the Justice League's vehicles, tough enough to withstand an explosion and small enough to be used for motorcycles. The dark stain was proof that Dick had been coming here for years.

How many times had Dick been here? How much pain could Bruce have saved both of them if he'd just paid a little more attention?

Batman steeled himself and made his way towards the office, where Superman and Wonder Woman waited with heavy expressions. There was a table with an old PC and a rickety office chair. Filing cabinets lined the back wall, but Wilson wouldn't leave anything important somewhere so unprotected. There was a plain wooden door on the right-hand wall. Wonder Woman pulled open one of the filing cabinets and rifled through the folders inside. She shook her head and closed it with a snap.

"Just auto-service records."

Batman eased open the door, revealing a darkened staircase. The steps creaked under his weight, but he had no doubt they were sound. The door at the bottom of the stairs was a slab of metal that could have belonged in a bank vault.

He tried the door, which was predictably locked.

"Let me," Wonder Woman said and he backed up to give her space. With a scream, she lifted her leg and slammed her heel into the door. The metal crumpled around her foot, flying off its hinges and crashing forwards against the wall in front of it.

"After you," she said. There was a dark glint of satisfaction in her eyes that suggested she was imagining giving a certain mercenary's face the same treatment. Batman stepped over the crumpled door and crossed the threshold into Deathstroke's base.

"I guess it's too much to ask for lights," Superman grumbled. Batman passed him a flashlight while Wonder Woman rolled her eyes.

"You have infrared and night vision," she reminded him in a huff.

"It's still creepy," he defended himself while clicking on the flashlight and shining the bright beam around. Batman passed her a second flashlight and turned on his own. Between the three high-powered beams, the hallway was fully illuminated. The walls were paneled with smooth sheets of steel and the floor was dark gray concrete. The hallway stretched in both directions, too far for the flashlight to reach the end. The ceiling had recessed lightbulbs, but that was useless without a way to turn them on.

"Which way?" Superman asked. There was a moment of silence as Batman carefully considered both directions.

"That way," Wonder Woman beat him to it, pointing to the left. Superman looked to him for confirmation and Batman shrugged and followed the Amazon. Their footsteps echoed ominously off the metallic walls. The door at the end of the hallway was locked. Superman pried it open and Batman took a second to appreciate super strength.

Blindly wandering the hallways quickly revealed itself to be an exercise in futility. Every door they opened let to another hallway, which led to another hallway, which led to yet another hallway.

It wasn't until Batman's flashlight fell on a crumpled mass of metal that he realized they'd effectively been led in a circle. That wasn't technically true. He'd been suspicious, but seeing the door confirmed it.

"Are you sure this is the real base? It could be a decoy."

"We missed something." Batman snapped. "We'll go around again. Look for hidden panels or trapdoors."

The others followed him without complaint. They retraced their steps through the first shattered door, making their way slowly down the hallway. Batman studied the grooves in the paneling, scanning every individual crease for hidden latches or control panels. They'd barely made it past the second door when he spotted it. One of the panels was sunken a quarter of an inch into the wall.

"Right here," he said, pulling at a hidden catch. It slid up to reveal a handle, which pulled aside easily, revealing a dark room. Wonder Woman moved to block the doorway so they wouldn't be locked in. Their flashlights revealed that they'd found a cell block. The room was broken into six smaller cells by bars that extended from floor to ceiling.

Thankfully, all the cells were empty and they looked unused.

"We can come back here later," Batman turned back into the hallway.

Now that they knew what to look for, the search was easy. Not five minutes later, Superman pried open a door that led to a short hallway with doors lining both sides. The first door on the right was a small bathroom with a toilet and a sink. While not the most fascinating of discoveries, it confirmed that they'd found the actual hideout.

"Try that one next," Wonder Woman suggested, pointing across the hall. It was a small kitchen with a stove, oven, fridge, counters and a table with two chairs. Two chairs.

"The fridge is empty," Superman called while Batman and Wonder Woman poked through cabinets.

"All the appliances are unplugged, but the pantry is still partially stocked." Batman said, mostly to think out loud. "Wilson knew he was leaving, but he may try to use this place again."

They left the kitchen and opened the next door. The beam of Batman's flashlight lit up a row of computer monitors and the light was reflected on the tv screens lining the back wall.

"It's the office," he said and Superman and Wonder Woman rushed inside. The three of them tore through the space, yanking open drawers and pulling files and blueprints out of the cabinets. Wonder Woman she smashed the locks on the desk drawers and began extracting yet more blueprints from them. She unfurled the first one and let out a strangled sound.

"What is it?" Batman demanded. Wonder Woman shook her head in disblief, face pale as she flipped through the pile of papers in her hands.

"The manor. He has the blueprints for the manor." She flipped to the next page in the stack and her eyes widened. "And Mount Justice. And the Watchtower."

"No wonder we had so many security breaches," Superman shook his head incredulously. "If Deathstroke shared these…"

"I don't think he did. If he's the only one with the knowledge, that gives him power. He's too smart to compromise that." Superman shook his head. Batman forced himself to take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"We have to assume Deathstroke still has access to all League systems. We'll do a full system reset and purge any invasive connections. After we're done here, we'll bring all the computers and hard files to the Watchtower to go over more carefully. All of Robin's access will be scrubbed. Every code he had access to needs to be reset."

"The rest of the league will love that," Wonder Woman tried a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, but she nodded all the same.

Searching the rest of the office revealed a few more files, but from a quick glance, none of it was enough to legally tie Deathstroke to the events they described. Batman knew everything they found had been left there deliberately. The rest of the office was too empty for it to have been an accident. He had to keep going anyway. He was walking blindly into whatever trap Deathstroke had set but he didn't have a choice, not if there was even the slightest chance of helping him find his son.

The next room was right across the hall. It was much smaller than any of the other rooms and the walls were painted a light gray.

"Oh my god." Superman almost dropped his flashlight, but Batman ignored whatever conclusion that the alien had just reached. He pressed down on the panic bubbling in his chest and studied the room.

It was a tiny bedroom. The bed against the wall had dark blue sheets and a single pillow. There was a chest of drawers against the other wall with a mirror hanging above it. The closet door was open, revealing a space just big enough for a few hangers. The other door led to a tiny bathroom that barely fit a toilet, a shower and a sink. Batman reached for one of the drawers and pulled it open, expecting it to be empty.

It wasn't.

There were still a few neatly folded t-shirts. In the back of the drawer was a blue and white tank top that had been one of Dick's favorites before he "lost" it. Batman's fist closed tightly around the shirt and the panic in his chest turned to anger.

"He made him sleep in here," Batman growled, heart pounding with rage as his voice rose to a roar. "He locked him in a fucking closet!"

"Batman," Wonder Woman's hand closed around his wrist, bringing him back to the mission. They had to keep moving, or else none of them would be able to handle this. Without a word, Batman turned on his heel and strode back into the hallway, dropping the tank top on the ground behind him. He couldn't afford to get caught up in his emotions now.

Batman shoved the next door open and shined his flashlight into a large workout room. A sparring mat took of most of the space, but there were some workout machines against the wall. There was a large cabinet that probably contained weights or training weapons. It was empty when Batman opened it.

The next room was full of empty shelves and hooks. The room smelled like cleaning solvent and gunpowder. It didn't take to be the world's Greatest Detective to know that this room had been Wilson's armory. Across the hall, Wonder Woman and Superman were examining a well-ventilated room filled with electrical sockets and heavy machinery.

Superman looked up from the heap of scrap metal he was sorting through when Batman entered.

"It's a workshop. Deathstroke makes a lot of his own tech. Looks like he was working on some kind of combat robot, but that's just a guess. Everything that's here is inessential or just too heavy for him to take, but we can still have Barry do a once-over."

"Later," Batman grunted, trying not to think about how much Dick would enjoy building combat robots, at the order of an evil mercenary or not.

Wonder Woman nodded, brushing her hands off.

"There's just scraps, not even full parts. We're not going to find anything new in here."

The last door was around the corner. It opened into a spotless laboratory that reeked of antiseptics. Counters, drawers and cabinets lined the walls, with a projector screen across from the door. There was an enormous lab bench in the center of the room. A quick search revealed that the room was empty. Deathstroke had meticulously removed everything from the dozens of drawers and shelves, leaving faint outlines in dust to show that anything had been there at all.

"Dammit," Batman cursed. Deathstroke really had left the blueprints and files behind on purpose. He wanted the League— Batman— to have them.

"Let's get the files and head back to the Watchtower," he ordered gruffly.

Superman was the one to spot it. As they approached the crumpled mass that had once been a very secure door, his eyes narrowed. Batman and Wonder Woman followed him to the other end of the hallway, where more doors lay splintered inwards. Wonder Woman's lips quirked upwards at her handiwork. Superman reached for the wall near the closest door. When his hand pressed against it, a panel raised, forming a handle. He pulled it to the side, sliding the hidden door open. Batman shined his flashlight inside.

There was a tall-backed chair in the middle of the room, with a pile of papers resting on the seat. Batman stepped inside carefully and as soon as he did, the ceiling lights snapped on. Batman whirled towards the door, batarangs in hand, expecting to have sprung a trap. Wonder Woman and Superman tensed as well, but after a few seconds nothing happened. Either the lights were connected to a motion sensor, or Wilson had remotely activated them, in which case he was watching them. Unfortunately, the latter was more likely.

Reluctantly, Batman turned around. There was something in the room Deathstroke wanted him to see.

The room was mostly empty, with a storage chest against one wall and a few folding chairs leaning next to it. A rolling tray table was pushed into a corner, an empty metal tray on top. The floors were concrete, discolored from countless stains and cleanings. There was a door against the back wall, and a low-hanging light in the center of the room. The light bulb was perfectly positioned to cast a spotlight over the papers on the chair.

He was stalling. Batman took a deep breath, exhaled sharply, and made his way towards the pile. With Wonder Woman and Superman watching for traps, he picked it up.

The top sheet was a blank piece of paper. He pulled it away and almost choked.

It was a picture of Robin from the early days, back when the eight-year-old had wanted to keep his red and green circus-theme for his uniform. The picture was slightly blurred, indicating it was taken from long-range, but it showed Robin completely focused on a target out of the frame, oblivious to the picture being taken.

Batman flipped to the next picture, which was another picture from another angle, this time where Robin was swinging between buildings on his grappling hook.

Another picture of Robin, watching Batman talk to Commissioner Gordon on the Police Department Roof.

Another picture of Robin, now a little older. And another picture and another and another. A picture of ten-year-old Dick, sitting with Barbara at a table in the Gotham Public Library. Eleven-year-old Dick in his classroom at Gotham Academy. Another. And another. And another.

Just when Batman thought it couldn't get any worse, there was a picture of Dick sitting in a chair. Sitting in the exact chair that Bruce was now standing in front of. His eyes were covered by a tightly-wrapped blindfold, but it was impossible to cover the sheer terror and fury on his son's face. Even in the picture, the dried tears tracks stood out against Dick's skin, dripping down from underneath the blindfold to the gag tied around Dick's mouth.

He was bound to the chair; a mixture of rope and duct-tape holding digging into his skin that Batman could see the dark bruises forming underneath. And that was a fucking collar around Dick's throat; the light glinting off the metal was impossible to mistake.

Batman's knees gave out, his fingers spilling the photographs onto the floor. His palms pressed into the concrete. His eyes were squeezed shut as his body shook with rage.

"Deathstroke. Is going to pay."

* * *

Dick Grayson

Just outside the cabin in the woods

* * *

The last few days have been… intense. Turns out, it's way harder to be the one on the run without any equipment or camouflage, and every time I thought I had a big enough lead and hid my tracks well enough, Slade appeared again. I was lucky that I made it four hours. The "punishment" for Slade beating my time could've been way worse though. Making my own shelter to sleep in and foraging outside for food was nowhere near as bad as I expected it to be, and honestly, I think Slade was impressed.

I told him I had survival skills. Maybe now he'll actually believe me. That is, if I could just get this stupid stick to make smoking ash without breaking in half again.

I thought starting a fire would be the easy part. But I really should have known better when it comes to Slade. Would it kill him to let me use a flint? Or some matches?

The laundry list of complaints evaporates when the wood underneath the spindle starts to smoke. I reach for the pile of kindling and drop it on top of the smoking wood. In a matter of seconds, it's smoking like crazy and then the tinder catches. Holding my breath so I don't accidentally blow it out for the third time, I transfer the tiny flame to the wood pile and watch as it starts to catch, tiny whisps of flame licking through the pile. It takes a few minutes but slowly the wood starts to burn and then it's a full-blown fire.

"Got it!" I grin, triumphantly throwing down the wooden spindle.

"Well done, Grant." Slade praises.

I freeze.

...what did he just say?

The woods fall silent, the temperature dropping at least twenty degrees in a few seconds. I open my mouth and Slade glares at me the instant I do.

"Don't." Slade growls. My heart pulses, slamming itself against my ribcage and the words at the tip of my tongue evaporate. But they're back just as quickly and by the time my brain catches up, I can't stop myself.

There's never going to be a better time and I think that I need to know. Oh, this is a terrible idea. But it's not like that's ever stopped me before.

"Was that his name?" I ask quietly. "Your son?"

Slade shoots me a glare, and for a second, I think he's going to shove me face-first into the campfire I just made. But he doesn't. There's something on his face that I can't figure out, but my instincts are screaming that whatever it is must be important. I can't back down now. My hands tremble and my mouth is so dry I think my tongue is going to crack in half, but I say it anyways.

"Slade... trust goes both ways."

Slade takes a deep breath, closing his eye for a brief second before letting it out. He sits on one of the logs, watching the steadily-growing fire. It's a long time before he says anything, so long that I've given up on getting any answers.

"Yes." The fire crackles, washing Slade's face in red and orange light. "My son's name was Grant. He would've been twenty-four next month."

I swallow. Twenty-four. That's… somehow worse than what I was expecting. I've spent a long time wondering if that's what turned Slade into the monster that ripped my life away from me, if losing one of his kids broke something inside him. But twenty-four… the pain in Slade's eye isn't decades old. He had twenty years with his son, probably expected to have decades more. And then… he was gone.

"I'm sorry."

Slade doesn't acknowledge me. He just stares into the fire like it's the only thing in the universe. I can't tear my eyes away.

For the first time in… ever… Slade looks human. He just looks like a person; a real person with feelings and emotions and things that he wants that aren't evil.

"When, I mean, how long ago?"

"Five years."

That's… that's how long ago I lost my whole family.

"How did it happen?"

"Grant had big dreams; he wanted to be a mercenary, just like his old man." Slade says, his voice taking on a bitter edge. But it's definitely not aimed at me. "I turned down a contract and he took it. And it got him killed."

Oh. Shit.

Slade's not done though, and I can't make myself talk any more than he can make himself stop.

"He wasn't ready. He wasn't trained, he didn't know what he was doing, he was really just a kid in over his head. And I didn't do anything to stop it. I knew what he was doing, I just never…" Slade frowns, and he might be staring into the fire but his mind is somewhere else. "I could've stopped him. But I didn't."

Oh.

I blink. My stomach tightens, twisting over on itself until I feel nauseous. Slade's not… he's not just talking about Grant anymore, is he?

Slade doesn't seem to have anything else to say, and I let the silence hang in the air. The quiet sticks around and the minutes tick away one by one. It's cold outside but it's not so bad with a roaring fire. I hold my hands out to soak in the warmth but the whole time, I can feel Slade's eye on me. For once, it doesn't bother me. Not when I feel like I maybe, finally understand something about him.

After a long time, Slade speaks again.

"If you are interested… I do have a contract in a few days."

My head snaps up.

"You do not have to come, and there will be absolutely no repercussions if you choose not to. However, if you decide to accompany me, I will expect you to perform to the best of your abilities."

A contract.

"When you say a contract, do you mean…"

"Yes." Slade answers. I take a breath, pulling my hands away from the fire to stick them back in my jacket pockets. Slade's been hired to kill someone. And he's offering to let me come.

He's going to kill someone, and if I go, I have to help him. I have to help him kill someone.

But I've already done that. It feels like only a week ago that I made plans for him to steal something and I got one of the guards killed. This is nothing I haven't done before. And besides, this is what I've spent months working towards. I need Slade to let me come on missions, I need to show him the he can trust me; I _need_ him to trust me.

"I want to come." My voice sounds so hoarse and I can't even start to think about what that means. "Please."

Slade smiles.

"Excellent. It'll be good to have you back, Renegade."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And just like that, Renegade's back! I know you all missed him, I did too. Coming up next, the Team gets a few new members, Dick makes some new allies, and there are plenty of difficult and painful decisions to go around. I hope you're excited, because it's going to be great!
> 
> Thank you all again for reading and for your patience. I know that I can't update as frequently as all of us want, but I will promise I'm not going to abandon this story. I've been working on it for over ten years and it's going to be finished. It just might take a while. I estimate that there are about 12 chapters left, so we are really getting close to the end. I can't tell you how it ends, but the rest of the story is entirely planned out and while I can't tell you if it's a happy ending, I do think it's very satisfying and a fitting end to this enormous story.
> 
> Please leave me a comment if you liked this chapter or you're enjoying the story, it really makes my day! Hopefully the next chapter will be up soon, and I will see you all again then!


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Violence, gore, minor character deaths.
> 
> Welcome back! When we left off, Dick agreed to come on a job with Slade, some disturbing discoveries were made when Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman went back to Slade's old hideout, and there was quite a bit of fallout from the attempted hostile takeover of the League. But don't worry, I'm sure things are going to get better for everyone (wink). Without further ado, enjoy!

Dick Grayson

Blüdhaven

* * *

"Get into position," Slade orders over the earpiece. I glance through the window into the warehouse decorated as a makeshift ballroom, checking to make sure that the room is empty of guards. Inside it's pitch black. Tarps have been pulled over all the windows, except for the hidden section Slade cut away the first time he came to case it.

My hand runs over the seam of my full-face mask, checking for the fiftieth time that everything is still in place. The night air raises goosebumps along the back of my neck, the only part of my body not covered with body armor or a mask. I pull the back of the mask lower even though it's just going to bunch up again later. My back presses against the stucco, the synthetic Kevlar snagging against the rough surface of the wall.

The second-floor ledge overlooks the harbor. The water looks cold and green and dirty, even this late at night. There's an underwater propulsion scooter tethered to the sea floor and a rebreather at my back. Plan F is to dive for the scooter from the ledge.

Plan R is the same, except I'm supposed to dive from the roof.

I look into the warehouse again.

Moonlight leaks through the window just enough to see a steel support column with interlocking beams running from the imported Columbian hardwood floor to the vaulted ceiling. I pull out my steel buck knife and cut one of the large panes out of the window, making a hole big enough to squeeze through. I tuck the knife back into its pouch and lower the pane to the ground carefully.

Planting one foot on the window ledge, I launch myself towards the column. My hands close around the bars and my feet swing up to find footholds. Climbing the rest of the way up into the rafters is easier than swinging on the monkey bars even without any light to see.

I reach the rafters and hook my arms around the vertical beams. I pick my way carefully along the ceiling, climbing to the spot just to the left of the room's center. I pull myself higher to where the I-beams and the trusses form an x, readjusting my grip so that both hands and feet are braced against the support beams.

I reach down and twist, turning over in midair so that my body is parallel to the ground and my head dangles towards the floor. There's nothing between me and a three-story drop. A grappling gun would make this so much easier… And safer.

Imagine that; everything Slade put me through, it ends with me breaking my neck by slipping off the ceiling supports. An ironic snort escapes before the moment comes hurtling back to me. I'm still hanging upside down high above the ground and I still have a job to do.

I lower my stomach towards the I-beam while sliding backwards so that there are trusses on either side and the corners of the roof slope in on me. I hook my feet around two beams to anchor myself and take a deep breath, shifting the rest of my weight onto my stomach.

Then I pull out the sniper rifle on my back and pull the strap under my arm to secure it. I slide the night vision scope into place and lower my head, staring through the sights at the tiny x-mark scratched into the floor.

"In position," I report. I'm balancing on my stomach and my elbows on an I-beam suspended forty feet in the air in almost total darkness. My feet and the sides of the roof above me are the only things holding me in place.

I missed this.

Being in the air and in complete control of myself. It's been… a very long time since I could even pretend to have that.

Spurts of gunfire break out in the distance. I tighten my grip on the gun and wait. The sounds quickly get closer before being joined by shouting men and barking dogs. The warehouse is suddenly illuminated as an explosion rocks the ground, blasting some unlucky landscaping into dust.

I start counting.

…58…59…60.

Right on time.

A man crashes through the warehouse door, allowing dim light to spill inside the entry. He gasps for air, loading a new magazine into his 10mm pistol. He points a steady hand towards the door; I raise my rifle and aim at his chest.

Eight guards come charging in after him, still firing through the open door. Slade's shot rips through the first one's skull, dropping him to the ground before he has time to scream. Shots two and three hit the second guard in the stomach and forehead. From above, it looks like his internal organs decided to explode.

I focus on keeping the target in my sights. The fury in his face and the dying screams that rip through the warehouse tell me everything I need to know.

Then silence.

Footsteps ring against the imported hardwood. The contractor who installed it is the (very) newly-widowed Helena Reyes, who owns a small but lucrative business that furnishes events for clients with dirty money. The tables, chairs and silverware were provided by Moreno Catering, the owner of which is now short a brother.

"You're a dead man!" the target screams, rage bursting through every word. He flips one of the tables, sending glassware and china shooting into the air as the bulky flower arrangement crashes to the ground. He ducks behind the table and two guards appear at his side.

The knot in my stomach loosens. Slade didn't kill them all.

Yet.

My stomach churns and I tighten my grip on the gun. I have to get through this.

I have to.

My vantage point gives me a perfect view as Slade fires three shots through the table, hitting the guard on the right squarely through the throat. He falls forwards, grabbing at the bullet wound to try to apply pressure but the pool of blood forms around him too quickly.

The last guard doesn't waste any time. He springs out from behind cover and fires machine guns from both hands, driving Slade behind a stack of audio equipment. He doesn't stop firing until he's emptied both magazines, then he grabs another machine gun off the ground where a fallen guard dropped it.

Slade lets out a grunt of pain and the target grins manically, emerging victoriously from behind the fallen table.

"It's over," the guard shouts, "Come take your death like a man."

"Now." Slade orders over the radio. I flip the catch and the laser sight turns on. A bright red dot appears on the target's chest.

"Maxwell!" He shouts in alarm and the guard whirls around. The second he does, Slade fires a headshot dead center, and then we're alone with the target.

The target drops his gun and raises his arms in the air.

Slade emerges from behind the audio equipment and moves towards the target like he has all the time in the world.

He has nine minutes. The guards radio in every ten and Slade jammed the frequency so none of them could call for backup on their walkie-talkies. We're too far away from the main house for anyone to have heard the minor explosions or gunfire, especially with the loud music coming from inside the house.

"Enrique Sánchez. Es un placer conocerlo."

"Métetelo por el culo, puto." The target spits back. I wish I didn't speak Spanish. I really, really, really don't want to think about Slade sticking anything up his… ugh.

"We can do this the easy way, or I can blast a hole in your skull and see if your daughter is any more willing to listen to reason."

"Stay away from my daughter or I swear I will rip your limbs off your body and feed them to you!" Sánchez rages, spit flying from his mouth. I keep the laser sight focused on the center of his chest and he takes the hint not to move.

"Very well. I'll say this simply. You're going to scale back all of your operations in Blüdhaven. Drugs, weapons, money-laundering, embezzlement, all of it. I don't care where you move to, as long as you get out."

Sánchez snorts, shaking his head.

"And if I refuse?"

"I'll kill you and make the same offer to your daughter. If she refuses, I go to her brothers. Then I go to the next in line. And so on until there are none of you Colombian pigs left in this country."

Sánchez levels a glare at Slade that would melt steel, but beneath the rage, he's considering the threat carefully.

"I'm going to need an answer quickly," Slade pulls a remote detonator out of his pocket. A timer counts down from 5:00 in bright red numbers, "The house is rigged to blow. It would be such a shame to interrupt the pre-wedding festivities."

"What?!" I hiss over the comm link. I almost lose my grip on the rifle and the dot shakes. Slade ignores me and my heart starts racing. Watching the guards die was bad enough, even knowing that every one of them was wanted for several counts of aggravated assault and manslaughter. They were armed and prepared to die to protect their boss. But the explosion will kill everyone in the house. Pillai Sánchez, the target's only daughter, is marrying an oncologist from Vietnam with no mob ties or criminal record. Most of the guests here tonight are their friends from medical school or the groom's family.

The target's eyes widen and his posture deflates.

"Stop the timer." He spits, "I'll do it."

Slade presses the button and the numbers are replaced by "Disarmed." He pockets the detonator and nods. I flip the catch again and disable the laser sight.

"Good choice. Any of your runners still working will be dead by Monday," He promises.

Over the comm, he hisses, "Go."

I sling the rifle over my shoulder and pull myself forwards, grabbing onto the I-beams on either side. I silently pull myself up towards the ceiling. I hook my legs around two beams while my hands feel along the ceiling in the darkness. I find the edge of the partially-obscured skylight and push up on the latch. It opens, flooding the warehouse with a stream of moonlight and I move quickly now that my position is visible.

Guards are emerging from the main house now by the time I climb through the hole and clamber onto the roof; they're accompanied by loud profanities and barking dogs. Already, three of my exit points are compromised and the other ones are closing fast. I can't get to the garage entrance, or to Sánchez's chopper. Slade's going to be mad if I ruin the gun (even if it is just a glorified laser pointer). But he'll be madder if I let myself get killed.

Plan R it is.

I take three steps and launch myself off the roof into the harbor.

* * *

Selina Kyle

The Batcave

* * *

Selina's footsteps echoed off the Batcave's walls and mixed in with the three voices that were arguing furiously.

"I don't care what their record is, you're not using them!" Wonder Woman snapped.

"What about the team that covered you at the Symposium in Metropolis? They were very good from what I remember." Superman broke in and Batman grunted.

"Agean Security. I've set up a meeting with them tomorrow morning for an emergency consultation."

"What's going on?" Selina asked, looking between Superman and Wonder Woman. They were staring at Batman, matching frowns set into their faces. Selina's stomach curled; whatever was going on, it was nothing good. And given how horrific the last few surprises had been, it seemed like a safe bet to expect the worst.

Again.

"The kids need bodyguards, a team at each of their schools and additional security for the manor. I need a team on each of them at all times. None of them are ever out of sight, we can't leave them vulnerable." Batman informed her without looking up, a furious scowl on his face as he stared at the files spread out on the table between them. Selina blinked.

"Bodyguards?" She repeated, distantly aware that her mouth was practically hanging open. A huff of air escaped her, the laugh somewhere between incredulous and horrified. "Bruce, you can't have teams of trained agents running around the manor."

"That's inconsequential."

"Inconse— what the hell are you talking about? Bruce, where is this coming from?"

Batman stiffened, his shoulders rising defensively. Selina stepped close enough to put a hand on his cheek and quietly but firmly said, "Bruce. What happened?"

"I—" Bruce hesitated, before his shoulders dropped. A tremor ran through his body; Selina would have missed it if her hand still wasn't on his face and that sent a shock of cold water through her body. She had never, ever seen him this shaken, not even after Dick disappeared and he'd locked himself in the Batcave for a week. "I went back to Wilson's hideout."

"Oh." The words hit like a punch in the stomach and Selina couldn't look away from Bruce's face.

"Gordon contacted me, he said that something wasn't adding up about Dick's case. The FBI took everything and then a few weeks after that the CIA commandeered every last scrap of paper they had left. I thought Wilson's hideout might have some answer, but it was just bait. The whole thing was perfectly staged, just waiting for me to find. And to top it off, we're no closer to figuring out what the CIA's involvement is than before. "

Selina hesitated before steeling herself.

"What did you find?"

"This is all my fault. All of it."

"No. Bruce, no. I know how you're feeling right now but you cannot convince yourself that this was your fault. Deathstroke is the only one to blame."

Batman slammed his fist against the table, sending papers flying.

"There's always more!" He roared. "Every single time I think this can't get any fucking worse, there's always more! More ways that I fucked up, that I let that bastard hurt my family!"

"Tell me." Selina said, forcing her voice to stay calm and steady.

"He brought Dick home."

"Home where?"

"Dick missed Stephanie's recital. He was being tortured the entire day and all I saw was him safe and sound in bed. Wilson was here."

"Here? You mean… in the manor?"

"Yes."

"Wilson was in the manor?!"

"He wasn't bluffing." Bruce forced the words out through clenched teeth, rage burning in his eyes. "He hurt him, Selina. He's been… I can't… he's been so far ahead for so long. He… here."

Selina accepted the photos and her stomach revolted the second she had. It was sheer force of will that stopped her from vomiting on the cave floor. Wonder Woman reached out a strong hand to steady her, and Selina looked at the Amazon.

"I know. It's not easy to look at." Selina had never heard as much venom in Wonder Woman's voice, not even when she, Superman and Black Canary had accused her of being the mole. Selina wanted to be sick, she wanted to put on her claws and rip Wilson apart for what he'd done, but she couldn't. Bruce needed her right now and that was more important.

"This is what he did to him when nothing he did could leave a mark. He's had Dick for three months! For all we know, he's been torturing him day and night and we can't find him! I am doing everything I can to find him but Wilson knows EXACTLY HOW TO HIDE. And even if we ever do find him… Wilson's had his claws in him for years. He might… we can't be sure that…" Bruce's hands shook and his gaze moved back to the Batcomputer screens. The same screens that had been reviewing security footage of every single one of Renegade's appearances for three months. "You didn't see him that night. He knew how far ahead… Dick knew that _I didn't know a thing. _He gave up."

"It's Dick." Selina said. "He's the most stubborn person I've ever met. He's not going to give up."

"He already has."

"No." Selina snapped. "He hasn't."

"This is all my fault. I never should have let him be Robin."

"Bruce." Selina said sharply. "That wasn't your choice and you know it. Dick snuck out and went looking for Zucco on his own."

But Bruce wasn't listening, he was too caught up in his own head. And the pictures he was still staring at like it would kill him if looked away for even a second.

"I should've… I should've—"

"Should've what? Sent him back to the orphanage? Let them throw him back into juvie?! You saved each other. You gave him a home and the two of you built a family, it is not your fault that Wilson took it away from him. Do you understand that? You did the very best that you could; just the fact that Dick fought so hard for so many years to keep it hidden shows how much this family means to him. He knew this would happen if you ever found out. Dick did everything he could to keep Wilson from taking him away."

Bruce didn't move, but Superman frowned and nodded his head. Selina took that as a cue to keep going.

"And all the fighting and the tension, you know why it happened now. Dick was terrified that you would find out because he KNEW that meant he would lose it all. He knows how much you care about him. He does. Because no matter how bad things got, you never abandoned him. Yes, we could have handled some things better. But it wasn't just your decision to keep our relationship secret from him. I should have explained everything to him before Wilson had a chance to use it all against us. I didn't, and I take responsibility for that. But you cannot forget that this is only happening because of Wilson. He is a monster and we going to find Dick and bring him home."

Selina reached for the pictures, gently tugging them away. Bruce let them go and she tilted his chin up so that he could look her in the eyes.

"This doesn't change anything." Selina said carefully. "There's nothing you found here that you didn't already know."

"How can you say that?!"

"Because it's true. And yes. The pictures… that makes it worse. But it doesn't change anything and you know it. You need to breathe. This is not the time to make rash decisions."

Wonder Woman stepped forward and Selina moved back to give her space.

"Bruce, I know that you're scared but Selina is right. You can't have security running around the manor."

"I can't leave the kids undefended."

"Of course not. But I have a better idea."

A look passed between Bruce and Diana that Selina had no idea how to interpret.

"She'd be happy to do it. Besides, I hear she's been talking about leaving home and seeing the world."

Bruce's hands curled into fists and he looked down at the table before letting out a sharp exhale.

"Okay." He said. Diana put a hand on his shoulder. Bruce didn't speak; his gaze was fixed on the pictures in front of him and as desperately as Selina wanted to force him to put it down, Bruce was too stubborn for that to have any hope of working. Instead, she turned to Clark, who looked more worn-down and exhausted than she'd ever seen him.

She couldn't imagine what he was feeling right now. Superman had all the power in the world; it wasn't often he felt as helpless as the rest of them mere mortals. Selina had no idea what to possibly say to him, so instead she asked, "Are you staying for dinner?"

"I can't. I need to get back to New York for the closing session." Superman said.

Right. Selina let out a breath. The special session at the UN. The one to rule on Superman's fate for inadvertently putting the entire planet in the path of complete annihilation.

"It wasn't your fault."

Superman gave her a pained smile.

"I appreciate your support, Selina. But this… I might not have been the one in control, but I still did it. Bruce, call me if you need anything."

"I need to go as well. The League is in disarray and we're still in the process of vetting the new members. And we still need to plan the funeral." Wonder Woman bowed her head solemnly and Superman's jaw tightened. Selina winced, squeezing Bruce's hand. "I'll go make arrangements back home. She'll be happy to do it, I know she will."

"Thank you." Bruce said.

Wonder Woman hesitated before placing her hands on Selina's arms. "I owe you an apology, Selina. I should not have jumped to conclusions about you. I am so sorry."

"Don't apologize." Selina frowned. "You were looking out for Dick, and the three of you were the only ones that realized something was wrong."

Wonder Woman nodded, her face softening as tears welled up in her eyes. Something passed between them as Diana squeezed her arms once.

"Take care of him." Diana whispered.

"Of course."

As the Amazon departed, Bruce dropped his head in his hands and let out a long, shaky breath. He was barely holding himself together by a thread and it broke Selina's heart to see it.

"Let's go upstairs." Selina said gently, taking Bruce's hand and squeezing softly. "I'm sure the kids are hungry."

* * *

Dick Grayson

New York City

* * *

My hair is finally dry by the time Slade parks the car in the empty garage underneath the building and turns off the engine. I get out and the second my shoes touch the concrete, I feel dizzy. And not just because the water in the harbor was absolutely disgusting and it'll be a miracle if I don't contract some gross disease.

It's been ten days since Slade handcuffed me to the seat before driving to the middle of nowhere as a test. Nine days since I passed Slade's test. Eight days of Slade treating me like an actual human being after ninety days of being locked up and isolated and driven insane from the loneliness and the boredom and the guilt.

And now I'm carrying a duffel bag of clothes and an even bigger gear bag on my shoulder and following Slade to the elevator. He murdered eight people right in front of me, maybe more during his escape, threatened to blow up an entire houseful of innocent bystanders, and blackmailed the head of a literal mob at gunpoint. And I helped him do all of it.

I should feel sick. At the very least I should be horrified. And I am. I think I am. But… every single person in that warehouse had a rap sheet long enough for twenty-five to life. Every single one of them hurt innocent people. They were all bad people.

Slade killed them but… they all knew the risks of what they did. And if Sánchez keeps his word, mob activity in Blüdhaven is about to drop in a big way. That'll make life safer for everyone and fewer civilians in harm's way is a good thing. It is.

My stomach churns violently and I almost drop the duffel bag. Slade looks down sharply, the look in his eye a little too knowing.

"How are you doing?" Slade asks. A chill runs down my spine and the parts of my brain scrambling to rationalize the things I did tonight grind to a halt. There's nothing innocent in the question. I can't lie to him. Slade knows I'm not fine; I've seen him cataloguing every single move I've made since he dragged me out of the harbor and threw me a towel. He'll know if I'm lying to him.

But I can't tell the truth either. If I tell him that there's a single strand of self-control holding me together, that I CANNOT stop to actually acknowledge the answer, well… no. I've given up so much to get here, I am not losing it all now.

I inhale slowly; somewhere my brain catalogues that I can't feel my toes and my heart is pounding in my chest too fast to make deep breaths possible and I know Slade asked me a question but I can't move my tongue or open my mouth and—

Slade's hand lands on my shoulder. The touch is firm and his palm is a warm weight on my arm.

"Breathe." Slade says calmly. "You're done. You did your job exactly right. You did a good job, and you're done for now. Just breathe."

Tears are leaking from my eyes by the time I nod, but Slade doesn't say anything. He doesn't move his hand either and that shouldn't help. It really shouldn't. But it does.

By the time the elevator stops and the doors open, my heartbeat has gone back to something survivable. By the time Slade opens the door to the armory, I've wiped my eyes and I feel like I can actually breathe.

Slade dumps his gear bag and starts unloading weapons for cleaning. I somehow managed to hold onto the rifle during my swim in the harbor and water leaks out when I set it on the table. I get to work cleaning it and pretty soon I'm lost in the motions.

Slade sat down at some point and the two of us work in silence for a while.

"Can I have the-"

Slade passes me the bottle of cleaning solvent without me needing to finish the quesiton.

"Thanks."

I've done these motions so many times now I barely think about it. Slide open the barrel, drag the cloth through, wipe it down, clean it, put it back together and pick up the next one. It's kind of relaxing?

As much as I hate guns, this part really isn't so bad. It's the one thing I can do right now without worrying that I'll mess it up. Even with Slade watching me without even trying to pretend he isn't.

"At the risk of triggering another panic," Slade begins and my back tenses as a reflex. "It's been a long week so I'd prefer to skip the physical examination if it's not necessary. How are you feeling?"

"Fine." I answer immediately.

"Any injuries?"

"No."

"No stray gunshot wounds you've been hiding?"

"No!"

"Stomach ache? Swallow any contaminated water while you were on your swim?"

"No. I feel fine, Slade, I promise."

"Good. Then before I forget, here." Slade holds out a thick envelope. I set down the disassembled pistol I'm working on and reach my hand out slowly.

"What is it?"

"For Sánchez."

"What?"

"Just open it."

Keeping one eyebrow raised in confusion, I tear the envelope open. Inside, there's a stack of cash. The envelope falls out of my hand and whacks against the table; it's at least five hundred dollars in cash.

"Uh… Slade? What is this?"

Slade raises an eyebrow, looking incredibly unimpressed.

"It's a pile of cash, what does it look like?"

Instead of rising to the bait, I stare at the stack of money like it's going to burst into flames at any second.

"Why did you give me this?"

"It's your cut."

"My what?"

Slade raises his eyebrows at me, his eye crinkling in amusement. "You didn't think I wouldn't pay you for your work, did you?"

"Uh…" I blink slowly, glancing around the armory to look at the security cameras and electronic locks on the door. Just because they're not against me right now doesn't mean they can't be with the push of a single button. "That is definitely what I thought."

Slade snorts. "Well, you've earned it."

The genuine praise brings a warm feeling to my chest. But then I remember the gunshots and the blood splatters and all the people who never made it out of the warehouse.

"I don't want it."

"By all means, you don't have to take it," Slade shrugs. He doesn't make any move to take the envelope back, and I look down at it again.

This is physical proof of what I did in the warehouse, of what I saw and what I didn't try to stop. People are dead and I could have stopped it. But I didn't. Just looking at the envelope makes my stomach churn.

But… what Slade said is still true. It doesn't matter how; I earned this money.

"What do I even do with this?" I ask slowly.

"Buy things."

"Where am I supposed to do that?"

Slade crosses his arms and raises a pointed eyebrow.

"I hate to point out the obvious but we are in Manhattan…"

My head snaps up.

"What?!"

Slade raises both eyebrows and dips his chin a little, making me feel like a complete idiot but I still ask, "I can go outside?"

He inclines his head slowly in response.

My heartbeat is pounding in my ears and the sudden blood rush makes me feel giddy, and a little dizzy. I try to stop myself from grinning like an idiot, but I'm just too excited.

Outside! To the real world!

"Is there a catch?"

"This may shock you, but there's not. Enjoy yourself, be back here before nine."

"Nine?" I repeat, trying not to sound too crushed. That's only two hours from now! I know two hours is still a lot of time but I really thought… when he said there wasn't a catch… I should have known better.

Slade clearly sees the disappointment on my face and I brace myself for the other shoe to drop. Maybe it'll be a snide comment about me being unappreciative and I'll lose all of—

"Nine pm." Slade corrects. "You have the whole day. And that curfew is only because we have an early flight tomorrow."

"Where are we going?" My stomach clenches. "Is it… is it another mission?"

"Have you ever been to Nanda Parbat?"

Oh. Oh shit.

"Don't worry about that now. Enjoy yourself. You've earned it."

With that, Slade heads out of the room, leaving me alone in the armory. I go through the rest of the motions on autopilot, finishing up the rest of the cleaning and maintenance before heading for the elevator. I make it to the ninth floor before I realize I left the envelope with the cash back in the armory.

For a second, I consider just leaving it there. It's bloody money. I don't want it.

But I do.

And if I'm that careless with it, Slade will never give me anything else.

The armory is unlocked when I get back, and the envelope full of cash is sitting on the table next to a bottle of cleaning solvent and a stack of clean rags, exactly where I left it. I don't know which of those things surprises me the most. I'm still not used to having unlocked doors.

Instead of letting myself spend another second on that train of thought, I grab the money and head upstairs to my apartment.

It's almost seven in the morning and I've been up all night. Before that, I was running on about five hours of sleep. I should go to bed; Slade promised this offer doesn't have a time limit. But then I look at my bed, then at the blue sky outside the window, and there's no way in hell that I can wait another second.

I grab my blue hoodie from the dresser, throw on a pair of sneakers and carefully pull a few twenties out of the envelope.

Sixty bucks isn't a lot of money. Not compared to the rest of the pile of cash stuffed inside the bursting envelope, not compared to the amount of money that Slade actually made on that job, and definitely not when compared to the limitless expense account Bruce set up for me.

But I have sixty dollars in non-sequential, non-traceable, cold hard cash. I can use it to buy anything I want and no one will ever know who bought it or where the money came from.

My heart is pounding as I stick the money in the pocket of my sweater along with my iPod and then head out the door of my apartment. The hallway leading to the elevator has never felt longer, and when I push the button to call the elevator, my heart skips a beat when the button lights up.

It feels like forever before the bell dings and the doors slowly slide open, and my pulse skyrockets when I step inside. This can't be real. It has to be a trick somehow. There's no way Slade meant it, at any second now, alarms are going to go off and the building is going to go into lockdown and Slade will laugh that it was all just another test and I failed, that he can't believe I was stupid enough to believe he would ever trust me enough to let me do this.

My hand hovers over the button for the first floor.

If it's a trap… I don't know what I'm going to do.

My finger hits the number "one" and somehow, the button lights up. Then the doors close and the elevator moves and I can't breathe. Is this real?

The elevator keeps moving until suddenly, it stops. The doors open with a ding, and then I'm staring out into a beautiful lobby with marble floors and dark wooden paneling along the walls and modern décor, complete with plush armchairs and fancy light fixtures.

But the best part? Floor-to-ceiling glass windows and a set of double doors that lead out to the street. My heart is in my throat, one foot after the other echoing along the floors. There's only a few feet left before I'm outside, and there's still no sign of Slade.

I push the door open with shaking hands, and there's nothing that stops it from swinging open smoothly.

And just like that, I'm outside.

I'm outside.

A sob rises in my chest and I force it back down. All around me is sunshine. Fresh air. No mission, no black and orange uniform, no weaponry, _no Slade_. Just me, a hoodie, and sixty bucks in cash.

The building I just came out of is made out of white brick, and it's enormous. It's way bigger than it seems from the inside, or maybe I just haven't seen as much of it as I thought. There's also an identical tall white building across from it and that just raises even more questions about how Slade got an empty apartment building all to himself. But that's a question for another time. I take a second to note that the one I just came out of is the one without a Citibank, just in case I forget on the way back.

Hmm. Banks have cameras. True, the manhunt for me is probably wearing down or else Slade wouldn't have let me outside, but it's better not to risk it. I turn and walk the other way, heading north.

It's a beautiful day out. The sun is out, the sky is blue, and the buildings surrounding me are mostly six or seven stories tall so it's really easy to see it. But the best part? There are people, real people just walking around outside and minding their own business as they go about their lives. Nobody looks twice at me. Nobody even looks at me at all.

I let my feet carry me down the sidewalks, just taking it all in. People. Cars. The outdoors. _Freedom._

After months of isolation and being trapped inside, I can go anywhere I want. I can do anything I want. I can buy myself clothes that Slade didn't pick out for me, I can get myself new gear just because I want it, I can get… I could get a laptop.

Slade handed me a stack of cash and said I earned it. He didn't give me any restrictions, didn't say there was anything off limits. He wouldn't stop me if I came back with some new tech.

Tech that would let me contact my family.

I freeze.

Slade isn't stupid. This is as much a test as it is another privilege, the ultimate privilege. If I try anything, _anything, _I'll never see the light of day again.

I can't let myself forget that… this isn't freedom. This is step three.

Get Slade to let me outside, no matter what it takes. A shiver runs down my spine. Suddenly, the fresh air doesn't feel so refreshing. It just feels cold. A chill runs all the way through me and when it's gone, I just feel sick.

I want to go back. I want to turn around and go right back to the building where Slade is waiting, go back to being a prisoner locked up inside the same walls day after day. At least that way I wouldn't have to pretend that everything is okay. Or that _anything_ is okay.

Focus.

I pull in a deep breath and force myself to hold it for a few seconds.

I'm outside. I have money. Slade trusts me enough to let me go out on my own. Even with the fact that he's definitely watching every single move I make, that's huge.

It's taken me months to get here, I can't waste this chance now that I have it. I can't let myself get distracted.

* * *

Bruce Wayne

Wayne Manor

* * *

"Miss Cassandra, I must insist that you eat your dinner." Alfred said while attempting to feed her a bite from the untouched plate in front of her. The other kids had finished eating, but they were all watching Cassie with matching frowns on their faces.

"C'mon Cass, just a bite." Jason encouraged, miming putting a fork in his mouth.

Cassie just shook her head while a tight scowl on her face.

"What's going on?" Bruce asked,

"It appears Miss Cassandra is on a hunger strike."

"What?!" Selina gasped, looking stricken.

"How long has it been seen she's eaten?" Bruce asked, already moving forward to take the fork from Alfred.

"She said she wasn't hungry this morning. I thought she ate with the other kids."

"She didn't." Tim chimed in, and Stephanie nodded. They both looked scared; Bruce forced himself to take a breath. Seeing the adults panic would only worry them more. Even if Bruce was scared shitless that his six -year-old was trying to starve herself.

"Did she have anything at dinner yesterday?" Selina murmured to Alfred, and panic shot through him when Alfred answered she'd had a few bites but not nearly enough.

"Cassie, please, you need to eat." Bruce held the fork closer to her mouth, but the six-year-old clenched her jaw and turned away.

"Do you want something else?" Selina asked, a helpless look on her face. "Sweetheart, just tell us what you want and you can have it."

Cassie's lip trembled and she bit down, squeezing her eyes shut while blood welled up under her teeth.

"Cassie!" Bruce shouted, grabbing his daughter and pulling her close while his hand flew to her jaw. "Don't bite yourself!"

The six-year-old had gone still in his arms, completely freezing in place. At Bruce's words, she opened her mouth to release her lip, but her eyes stayed locked on Tim.

No. Not on Tim. On the chair he was sitting in, the one that had been Dick's for the last four years.

Bruce froze, his heart missing a beat entirely. All around them, the rest of the family was watching in horror as blood dribbled down Cassie's chin, her little body shaking as she squeezed her eyes shut, trying with all her might to force the emotion off her face.

A wave of pure nausea poured over Bruce like a bucket of ice water being dumped over his head. The pieces all crashed into place suddenly; refusing food, staying silent, forcing herself not to cry… it was exactly how she'd acted after Shiva had taken him away from Cain.

"Cassie." He breathed, chest aching with guilt at how stupid he'd been, how unbelievably idiotic and obtuse and… "It's okay. You can tell me what's wrong. It's okay."

Cassie shook her head vigorously, still not opening her eyes.

Stephanie suddenly burst into tears.

"Stephanie, what's wrong?" Bruce asked. Stephanie's arms were wrapped tightly around herself, and her face was twisted in pain.

"I don't want to go!" She wailed before the dam broke and she started bawling hysterically. Selina pulled Cassie into her arms and the next instant Bruce was out of his chair and wrapping his arms around Stephanie. She threw herself at him, tears and snot staining his suit.

"Go where?"

"I don't wanna go back with my dad!" She sobbed. "I wanna stay here. I know you don't want me but I don't want to go and I don't want to leave Timmy and Jay and Cassie and—"

"Of course I want you here." Bruce said, hugging her even tighter. The words felt like a punch in the gut. "Stephanie, what are you talking about?"

"But you said we were only here as a distraction!"

In that moment, Bruce felt like the worst father in the entire universe.

"Stephanie, I… no. No, no, no, I… no. Listen to me. You are not going anywhere."

"But Deathstroke tricked you into taking us." Stephanie wailed. "You don't even want us!"

"No. He may have put you all in my path, but I made the decision to take each of you in. And adopting you all was the best decision I have ever made. You're not going anywhere, Stephanie. I love you and I want you here. With me."

"You promise?" Stephanie sniffed.

"I promise. I know that the last few months have been very difficult and I… I haven't made it any easier. I know you all miss Dick, and that you're worried about him. I am too."

"We both are." Selina said softly, stroking Cassie's hair as tears rolled down her face.

"I promise you, I am doing everything I can to find him. So is the League. We are going to find him and bring him home safe."

"You promise?" Jason asked.

"I promise." Bruce swore.

"What about all that stuff you said?"

"I messed up. I never should have doubted him. He needed me, and I failed him. Just like I failed all of you. What happened to Dick is not your fault; there is nothing any of you could have done. Cassie, I know you're scared and you miss Dick. But it is not your fault. You are good just the way you are and following Cain's rules isn't going to bring Dick back. Okay?"

Cassie sniffed and nodded before burying her face in Selina's neck.

"I know you all miss him. I miss him too. But we are going to find him. And while we do, there's something I need from all of you."

"What?" Tim asked.

"We need to keep going. None of us can stop living our lives because we miss him, okay?"

"But—" Tim protested.

"Dick needs a home to come back to." Selina said gently. Tim blinked, Stephanie wrapped her arms around herself, and Jason stared at the ground. "Do you think we can all do that?"

* * *

Dick Grayson

Nanda Parbat

* * *

"We've received clearance to land. Beginning our descent, expect wheels on the ground in fifteen minutes," the pilot informs Slade over the intercom. The main cabin of the private jet is closed off from the cockpit, but judging by the accent, the pilot is one of Ra's men. Plus, I haven't seen the kind of private jet Slade would hire for himself, but this one is really fancy. Nowhere near as fancy as Wayne One, but it's pretty easy to imagine Ra's holding court from inside this plane anytime he needed to fly somewhere.

Slade still hasn't told me anything about the point of this meeting, but if I didn't know better, I'd say we're headed to a job interview. What else could it be? Slade promised he wouldn't send me in to any actual jobs blind, and besides, Ra's literally sent his own private jet to pick us up.

Put all of that together and it's not much of a jump to guess that Ra's wants something.

"We're almost there. Get ready." Slade passes me the bags with my uniform and all my gear. After I pull my uniform on, I glance inside the gear bag and my stomach sinks when I see that he packed my entire arsenal; everything from the freshly polished set of throwing knives and the smoke grenades to the fully charged electric bo staff.

"Am I going to need all that?" My voice trembles a little, but Slade doesn't call me out for being nervous.

"No. While we're here, we're under al Ghul's hospitality. But in my experience, it's always better to be prepared."

"Right." I swallow, trying to get rid of the dryness in my throat. It doesn't help at all.

"When we get inside, follow closely behind me and don't let anything distract you. You will not be allowed into the actual meeting, but Ra's has arranged for one of his men to guide you around."

Just like when Ra's arranged the trial by Onyx when his scary assassin almost killed me?

"Is this another life-or-death combat ambush?"

"No. But stay vigilant; the League of Shadows does not enjoy being left in the dark. For everyone you see watching you, assume there are another dozen eyes behind them."

"Sounds fun." I try for cheerful and miss completely.

"Keep your radio on at all times. Do not contact me unless it's an emergency, but if it is an emergency, do whatever is necessary to protect yourself. Understood?"

"Yes sir."

"Good."

It feels like only a few seconds pass by the time the plane lands, we taxi to a stop, and the pilot informs us that we've arrived and there's a waiting party prepared to receive us. Slade stands up, puts on his mask, and then I'm scrambling to follow Deathstroke onto the runway of the League of Shadows compound. The waiting party turns out to be a trio dressed in dark brown robes that signify their status as servants.

I wonder how their health insurance is. Does Ra's provide his minions with benefits? They must at least have dental, right? Would Slade get mad at me for convincing the League of Shadows' servants to unionize? Probably.

The waiting party completely ignores me as they bow to Deathstroke.

"The others have already arrived," the tallest man says. "They're eager for you to join them."

"I'm sure they are." Slade drawls. And then all three of them head deeper into the complex with Slade easily keeping pace. I scramble behind them, trying to follow Slade at the appropriate distance and not draw attention to myself and also keep myself from staring at every single person we pass.

The League of Shadows' headquarters is absolutely huge and it's also full of people. And every single person we pass stops to stare at me; it's like that night at the Iceberg Lounge except somehow, it's worse. I haven't seen anyone but Slade in months, and for a lot of those months, it was just me on my own.

And yeah, I got to walk around Manhattan for a while yesterday, which did help, but that was New York. I could paint myself blue and walk around on fifteen-foot stilts and nobody would even look at me. This is a complex filled to the brim with assassins who would snap my neck in an instant if they ever found out who I really am.

My legs are shaking by the time we enter a dimly-lit antechamber and the servants gesture towards the doorway before leaving the way we came in.

"Wait here," Slade says.

"Yes sir." I answer stiffly just in case anyone is listening.

Slade nods at me once and then disappears through the door. The second Slade is gone, I drop my head and sigh.

"I mean, what else am I going to do?" I mutter, crossing my arms as an ominous whooshing sound sends a chill through the room.

Why are all the secret hideouts and evil lairs so creepy?

There are no real chairs in this weird antechamber, so I sit down cross-legged on a bamboo mat. My back protests, but a little pain never hurt anyone. Okay, that's not true, but this is "stiffness after a ten-hour flight" sore, not "went three rounds with Clayface and lost" sore.

I hear soft, barely perceptible footsteps before a mocking voice rings out of the darkness.

"Are you lost, little boy? You're an awfully long way from home."

I look up to see Cheshire's mask grinning down at me and for a second, all I can do is stare.

"Cheshire." Her name falls out of my mouth as my brain stalls. The world has a pretty sick sense of humor; the first person besides Slade that I'll talk to in months just so happens to be Artemis' older sister.

"How flattering." Cheshire laughs, turning the words into a mockery. "I see my reputation precedes me."

She doesn't look like Artemis. She doesn't sound like Artemis. She doesn't hold herself like Artemis. But staring up at the assassin, Artemis is all I can see. Jade's eyes flick around the room, taking in every detail as she assesses the situation and it's EXACTLY the same way Artemis does.

And then I lock onto her mask and the only thing I register is Artemis' eyes.

My stomach contracts, nausea and guilt and grief rising in my stomach until I think I'm going to be sick. Ra's did this on purpose. I know he did. He knows who I am, he must have wanted a chance to rub it in that he still has leverage over me.

Cheshire laughs again, tilting her head as she stares down at me derisively.

"There's no need to be so scared. I'm not here to hurt you." She purrs. "Although I admit, I'm disappointed. I expected more from Deathstroke's famed apprentice."

My mouth is so dry I think my tongue might snap in half and my heart is pounding against my ribcage like Harley's sledgehammer.

"How is…" I start, but the words die in my throat. Not just because I'm scared to know, but because Slade's words ring out in my head. For every set of eyes I see, assume there's another dozen waiting where I can't.

"What was that? Cat got your tongue?" Cheshire teases mockingly, but as much as she loves tormenting an easy target, she's not actually here to hurt me. My head snaps to the doorway, looking for any sign of eavesdroppers or secret viewing ports. In an antechamber like this, it's almost guaranteed that there's places built in for easy spying.

She crouches down, pressing a finger under my chin to tilt my head up. I jump at the touch and her eyes narrow into a sneer. Her fingers are warm against my skin and the touch is so, so soft. Some part of my brain knows this is supposed to be threatening, but the only thing I can think about it how different it feels than Slade grabbing me or putting a firm hand on my shoulder. Even when it's not cruel, Slade's touch is ALWAYS controlling.

"Well, go on. Spit it out."

"There's people watching?"

"Not this time. It's just you… and me."

"They wouldn't just leave me alone."

"The Demon Head's orders," Cheshire says loftily, dragging her thumb across my cheek. I shiver at the touch and I physically have to stop myself from leaning into it. There are so many things I miss since Slade… over the last few months, but it's been killing me to be alone. I miss people so badly that my chest locks up just thinking about it. I miss Bruce messing up my hair and Alfred's firm hugs and my siblings sprawling on top of me on the couch and even Cassie accidentally strangling me when I give her piggyback rides. And I miss my friends just as much. I miss sparring practice and the team's tradition of coming up with weird new rules for sparring sessions and always being in fist-bumping distance of Wally and falling asleep on top of my teammates after a long mission and Artemis whacking me in the arm anytime I annoy her. And now Cheshire's face is right up in mine and Artemis' eyes are staring straight into me and I can't breathe. "He wants to see how well you do on your own. There's no one to hear you scream."

Okay, that one was just corny, but at least it confirms that this whole clusterfuck is courtesy of Ra's. I take a deep breath and ball my hands into fists. I can do this. Slade would've told me if anything happened to her, just like he told me about… Red Tornado. She's fine. But it'll feel better to know for sure.

I look up at Jade and force myself not to flinch when I look into her eyes.

"How's Artemis?"

Cheshire jerks back, blinking in shock before she slams me against the wall, a sai at my throat and cold fury pouring off her in waves. It takes me a second of panic to figure out what that means, before I remember that she'd have no idea why I care.

"If you or your boss think you can get to me through her, you're sorely mistaken."

"Is she okay?" I ask again. My heart is racing and it has nothing to do with the weapon digging into my neck.

"What does it matter to you?" Jade's voice is frosty. I flinch.

"She's my friend." I swallow the lump in my throat. "I sit next to her in calc. Or… I did."

The sai at my throat doesn't move. I hesitate, before deciding to jump in. It's not like I have anything to lose by saying it.

"She told me about you. In case you were wondering. Sl—Deathstroke didn't say anything about either of you."

"She told you, the rich little brat she sat next to in math class, that her sister was an assassin?" Jade asks dubiously.

"I told you. She's my friend."

"Well, isn't that sweet? And how did it feel when you found out who she really was?" Jade pauses, and I can hear the mocking grin on her face. "Of course, if you don't know, you're in for quite a messy reunion someday."

I could rise to the bait, but instead I shrug. "Honestly, it was pretty low on my list of priorities. And, I mean, it's not much of a secret, she uses her real name in the field."

Jade snorts, and I count making her laugh as a win. I glance down at my uniform and an ironic grin pulls itself onto my face. "Plus, you know, I had some bigger things to worry about."

"I'm sure you did."

It's hard to tell under the mask, but Jade looks… well it's hard to say exactly, but the expression "curiosity killed the cat" comes to mind. Especially when she asks, "What else did she say about me?"

"That you're not the sentimental type. I feel like that's an understatement." I offer with a grin. Jade relaxes a tiny bit and I try again now that she knows why I'm asking. "Is Artemis okay?"

"Oh, she's fine. She's even got herself a boyfriend now. One of her little superpals."

"What?"

Jade snorts.

"You _are_ out of the loop. She's been dating the Flash brat for months."

"Oh. Wow."

This should NOT be the first thought in my head but I CALLED THAT.

"You know, you're not at all what I was expecting."

"Well what were you expecting me to be?"

"Broken." Jade says simply. I tense up, but she's already moving on. "It's clear you're not exactly the emotionless zombie everyone thinks you are. So tell me, why the freeze up?"

"What do you mean why? I haven't seen anyone but Deathstroke in months, I wasn't expecting the first person I get to talk to would look exactly like one of my best friends."

"We don't look that much alike."

I raise an eyebrow at her.

"When was the last time you looked in a mirror?" I retort. A few seconds later, I realize that Jade still has me pinned to the wall with a sai digging into the neck of my uniform. It's a bad angle to try to get out from, but not impossible. In one motion, I slam the wrist holding the blade out of the way while locking one leg under her knee, the other around her waist, and use my other hand to push myself off the wall as hard as I can.

The momentum sends us both spinning to the ground, and I land on top of her, one of my throwing knives pointing at her chest. She went easy on me though, so I make sure that my knee lands on the ground instead of on her diaphragm.

Jade pushes me off immediately, then stands up and brushes herself off.

"That's more like it." She says approvingly, pulling off her mask and clipping it to the belt at her waist. I climb to my feet, brushing off the dirt and other gross cave floor debris. I hold out my hand to introduce myself.

"I'm Dick."

"Oh, I know." Jade takes it and squeezes harder than necessary. I return the grip and she smirks at me. I roll my eyes.

"I've been to your mom's apartment, Jade. I know as much about you as you know about me."

Jade stares at me for a second, then shrugs.

"Fair enough."

"So, what's the plan? You want to just hang out here until they're done or is Ra's actually making you give me the whole tour?"

"They'll be in there for a while. They like to hear themselves talk." Cheshire says loftily, a hint of a sneer in her voice. I snort. Cheshire's eyes snap onto me and the ghost of a smile appears on her face. "I'll show you around. You could use the exercise."

"We've known each other for five minutes and you're already calling me fat? Rude."

Jade rolls her eyes, but there's an actual real smile on her face as she turns and heads down the hallway.

"Keep up or I'll push you in the piranha pit."

"There's a piranha pit?"

* * *

The tour is… extensive. The League of Shadows' compound is enormous and I'm pretty sure we haven't even covered all of it by the time it gets too dark to see the paths connecting the buildings and servants hurry around to light the flickering torches.

Jade leads me past the small building that smells like spices and fresh bread and my brain stalls. Who knew that assassin HQ had a mess hall?

"If you're hungry, the food is entirely adequate."

"I'm not." I shake my head. It's been a few hours since I ate, but I'm not ready to let my guard down enough to risk being poisoned. "They're still not done yet?"

"I told you, those meetings can get long." Cheshire gestures at my earpiece. "Ask him yourself if you really want to know, but I wouldn't recommend bothering him."

Slade's exact words were, "Do not contact me unless it's an emergency." Somehow, I don't think Slade will accept "I'm bored" as an emergency.

"Hmm."

"Then how about a spar? You could use to blow off some steam."

"This isn't really one of those surprise 'battle-to-the-death' tests Ra's wants me to do, is it?"

"Haven't you already had yours?" Jade asks casually.

"Yeah, and it sucked."

"Oh, don't be a baby. Everyone does it."

"Even you?"

"Of course."

"How did you do? I mean, I assume you survived, but…"

"I was seventeen. I lasted four sixteen before Onyx kicked my ass. It's not quite your time, but I still made it two minutes past the kill zone."

"What do you mean my time?"

Jade looks at me like I'm an idiot.

"Are you joking?"

"Yeah, because that would be such a funny joke." I say sarcastically. "Was I being timed?"

Jade looks like she's about to roll her eyes, but instead she just shakes her head.

"The trial by combat is a test for any assassins trying for promotion to full Shadow. Anything under two minutes and Onyx gets to take your head off. Make it past then and you pass. The rest of your time is just for bragging rights."

"So you made it past four minutes? Is that a lot?"

Jade purses her lips, looking annoyed.

"Wilson really didn't tell you any of this?"

I blink up at her.

"I spent months locked up in one of his bases 24/7, does it really surprise you that he doesn't like to share with me?"

Jade frowns.

"Four minutes is… good enough. Not enough to brag about, but I'm hardly one of the ones to just barely scrape by."

"Well… congrats?"

"Thanks." Jade accepts the compliment sarcastically, drawing out the 's' sound for emphasis.

"So, what's the high score? I mean, what's the longest anyone lasted?"

"Those aren't exactly the same thing." She shrugs, holding up two fingers. "There've been exactly two people to beat Onyx in combat. The Demon's Head, of course, and Sensei. Nobody's ever taken her to a draw, but that would be an automatic third place. The longest anyone has ever lasted in combat before their defeat was Lady Shiva, at seven minutes and twenty-seven seconds."

My jaw drops. I'm sure I barely made it past two minutes and it was still one of the longest fights of my life. I can't even imagine how anyone could last that long against that much skill and that many knives.

"That's a long fight."

"Nobody's beaten that time in the last twenty years, but recently someone's come close."

"Who?"

Jade smirks.

"You."

"What?"

"Seven twelve."

"What?!"

"Your time. Was seven twelve."

Seven twelve. Seven minutes and twelve seconds. Lady Shiva—Cassie's mom—set the record twenty years ago and my time was only fifteen seconds shorter? That's… I… what the hell am I supposed to do with that? That's gotta be a mistake. I spent most of the fight trying to run away, that must be it.

"It's funny he didn't tell you any of this. After all, you're the reason the Light is going with Wilson over Kobra."

My jaw drops.

"Well, I'm sure it wasn't the only reason, but you certainly made an impression." Cheshire grins at me, before pulling to a stop. "Here we are. Try not to gape, there's usually someone waiting for an open target."

The building she led me into is pretty much a huge gym, complete with an insane array of weapons lining one of the walls, at least fifteen different sections of mats, and every kind of target and range imaginable. There's about thirty people spread out throughout the room engaged in some form of combat or other; some of them are just regular League of Shadows assassins, but there are some other costumed faces.

Black Spider waves at me before the Shadow he's fighting throws him into the mat. There's a few others I recognize, like Hook (he's the guy with a giant hook for a hand) and I'm pretty sure that's Captain Boomerang over in the corner, but luckily there's no sign of Sportsmaster. Or Slade.

Cheshire leads me over to one of the sparring rings and lunges at me pretty much the instant I step onto the mat.

Sparring is exactly what I need right now. I've been so freaked out ever since I got on the plane… actually, no. I've been freaked out ever since Slade offered to let me come on a job while we were camping and it's just been a slow burn ever since.

It just feels so good to move and to hit something without having to worry about getting decapitated or doing something wrong that accidentally pisses Slade off. It's just a friendly sparring session, and Cheshire's actually fighting clean.

Well, mostly clean, there's been a few hair-pulls on both sides, but that barely counts.

At some point, we drew a crowd because there are a lot more people watching the ring than there were when we came in.

Cheshire still hasn't drawn her sais, so as much as I'd like to see how well a bo staff matches up to them, I keep it weapons-free hand-to hand combat. I let her lead me around the ring for a while; but when I get bored and take the offense, she lets out a laugh and says, "About time! Now show me what you can really do."

There's not really a better invitation than that.

She's really fast. And really hard to hit. But Slade is faster and even harder to hit, and it's not long before I have an opening big enough to drop my weight and send her crashing to the ground.

I follow her down, pinning her with the lock Slade taught me by holding me in it until I passed out from the pain. She holds out for five full seconds before tapping out with a growl, and I let go immediately before climbing back to my feet.

…just in time to see the boomerang hurtling towards the back of my head with no warning.

My arm snaps up while I twist myself out of the way, catching the boomerang with one hand. My glove is padded, but even that can't take away from the force behind the throw. I turn around, turning the weapon over in my hands and testing it for give. Captain Boomerang is staring at me slack-jawed, looking stunned. He's not the only one; all around the training room, assassins are exchanging looks, whispering to each other, or just flat-out staring at me.

Except for Jade, who's climbing back to her feet and brushing off her uniform while I deal with my new friend. Maybe that's the real reason Ra's sent her to meet me; she's the only one who's any good at pretending not to be curious about me.

"Incoming." I say dryly. It seems like a waste to snap the boomerang in half, so instead I throw it. Instead of curving, the end embeds itself halfway into the wall just above the Rogue's head. Captain Boomerang gulps, his eyes tracking up slowly until they're practically rolling back in his skull to look at the boomerang that just narrowly avoided skewering him.

"Anyone else?" I demand, glaring around the room. No one wants to be the first to try something, but once one person gets the nerve, it's not much longer before it's a free for all. If I hadn't caught the boomerang…

It's a good thing I caught it.

"Well? Don't get shy now." Cheshire taunts, readjusting her stance behind me so it's clear that she's not going to help anyone if they do make a move. I glance behind me to make sure I'm not imagining it, but no.

I blink.

Befriending Cheshire wasn't on the list of things I thought would happen today, but it could be a lot worse.

"Renegade." A huge man steps forward and he has to have just walked into the room because there's no way I wouldn't have noticed Ubu if he was here the whole time. Ra's hulking personal bodyguard crosses his arms over his chest menacingly. I gulp, glancing at Cheshire to see if she'll still have my back on this one. She shrugs, still daring the other Shadows around us to make a move.

No help there.

I steel myself.

"The Demon's Head wishes to speak to you."

For a second, the world freezes.

Ra's sent Ubu to get me. He wants to talk to me.

Alone.

Fuck.

This is why Slade brought me. So Ra's could have his chance to see me in action, up close and personal.

I look at Ubu again and my stomach twists. I do not want to fight him. For one thing, he's huge. But more importantly, there's nothing that'll take him down short of complete incapacitation or Ra's calling him off. And literally the last thing I want right now is to fail a test this big.

Wait, stop.

I'm thinking about this wrong. I'm not here as a hero. I'm here as Renegade, Deathstroke's apprentice. Slade won't let anyone actually hurt me. Everyone knows it. Even Ra's can't cross that line without Slade approving it, and Slade wouldn't do that to me now.

Maybe three months ago, but now? When he knows I've been working my ass off to earn his trust? If this is a test, it's not going to be that kind of ordeal.

Besides, Ra's wouldn't do anything that backhanded… he likes to be in-your-face about his plans.

So I straighten my spine and nod once at Ubu, who turns and leads me down a new hallway without a word. I don't look back at Cheshire. Even if I want to.

Ubu doesn't say a word as he leads me through the complex, going up flights of stairs and finally reaching the surface, where natural light can actually get in. Ra's' office and quarters are on the top floor, and every step makes my stomach churn harder. Ubu finally stops outside an ornate set of double doors, glaring at me firmly.

"The Great One awaits your presence. I will be waiting to escort you to your quarters when he has finished with you." He says.

"Thanks." I answer dryly, because what else can I possibly say in response. "Wait, quarters?"

Before Ubu can respond, the door opens and Ra's al Ghul stretches out his hands in welcome while giving me a warm smile.

"Ah, Renegade. Thank you for coming." He turns to Ubu and waves a hand dismissively, causing the bodyguard to bow before disappearing down the hallway.

Ra's ushers me inside, and I don't really have any other options but to follow him.

I've never been inside Ra's' personal office before. I know Batman has, but the decorative details were secondary to the mission report. It's a huge space, and it's beautifully decorated, paying homage to… whatever it was they claim the League of Shadows was founded from.

There's a desk with chairs, but Ra's gestures toward the couches arranged in a circle on the far side of the room. I sit on one emerald green couch and the supervillain sits across from me.

"I must admit, this was a turn of events I could never have foreseen. You appear to be doing much better than would be expected for your circumstances, Mr. Grayson."

My face burns and my eyes trace the pattern of the oriental rug, not meeting his gaze. I always hated that Ra's knows our secret identities, but now he knows everything and that's so much worse.

"The two of you have certainly been busy. Tell me, Richard, how did it feel to be on the other side?" Ra's asks curiously, lacing his fingers together while he leans back in his chair.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Come now, there's no need for modesty. I'm well aware of your participation in Deathstroke's recent work. Of course, if you'd rather not think about that particular unpleasantness, perhaps you can indulge an old man's curiosity concerning the events of the past few months. How was your time in captivity?"

I freeze. I don't have to answer him. I don't.

"A different question, perhaps? How did this come about? I'm sure the Detective is none too pleased by your recent behavior or choice of company."

I scowl and mutter, "Maybe they should call you the detective."

"Do try not to lash out at one of the only people capable of helping you," Ra's admonishes. My eyes migrate from the rug to the tapestry on the wall that depicts a bloody battle and some kind of severed dragon head.

"You see, when I first heard the news of your disappearance, I thought it was perhaps one of the Detective's more elaborate ploys, but when news of Deathstroke's new apprentice broke…" He sighs dramatically before continuing. "To be quite frank, I thought the worst. Nonetheless to watch you come into my domain, be released from your master's watchful eye, and make yourself at home amongst my Shadows, I find I have no suitable explanation."

Ra's leans backwards, lacing his fingers together in the universal gesture for, "I have all the time in the world." My heart pounds in my chest, pulse rising rapidly.

"The Detective would never put you at risk like this, and none of your League members would dare suggest it. That being said, Deathstroke would never let you out of his sight if he suspected any disloyalty. So that leads me to one fascinating conclusion: you aren't pretending."

At my sides, my hands tremble and I dig my fingernails into my palms to stop them.

"Ah," Ra's says, voice rising with hidden pleasure and less hidden curiosity. "Finally, these questions have answers. What remains is simple; willing or un-willing?"

Willing or unwilling. Am I here because I want to be or because I have to be? Am I here because of what Slade promised me, or because of what Slade threatened me with?

Ra's waits patiently, inspecting my face for every emotion, every face twitch and eye movement. I raise my eyes up so I can meet his gaze.

"He'll kill them." I say and against all odds, my voice is perfectly steady. "If I ever try to leave."

The look on his face is solemn when he nods and gestures at the office around us.

"I see my comment about captivity was more accurate than anticipated. Tell me, Richard, do you understand what's happening right now?"

"I know that you're being creepy as hell. So, your usual self."

"Amusing, but I will take your attempts at humor as confirmation that you have been left in the dark. Ocean Master has been unanimously voted unfit for his position. The search for his replacement has taken much of our attention over the past few months. Well, among other things."

Ra's smirks, the look in his eyes much too knowing.

"You see, the matter of the chips has never quite been settled."

My heart stops. Of course Ra's knows about the chips. He knows everything. But if the rest of the Light doesn't know, then that means Ra's has a reason to keep it secret.

"What chips? I don't know what you're talking about."

"Ah, that's right. What would you know about Robin's actions?" Ra's lets the corner of his mouth curl up into a smirk and my stomach twists itself into a knot so tight I can't breathe. "While we're on the subject, I imagine you'd like to know that Gotham has become quite impenetrable. Despite my colleagues' best efforts, Gotham's favorite little bird remains unharmed."

"Did he… is he really… did…"

"Speak up, Richard. Hesitation is a luxury you can no longer afford."

My fingernails dig into my palms so hard that it stings even through my gloves. I take a deep breath. Slade could have been lying. He would absolutely lie if he thought it would help control me. But Ra's has no reason to lie to me. And even if he did, Ra's al Ghul is many things but he's not a liar.

"Is he Robin?"

"As I've said, Gotham has become difficult territory to navigate, but… it would seem that your brother has donned the cape."

The words crash into me like a wave and I can't move. Despair rises in my chest, anger and horror and grief crushing my lungs like a vice and I can't breathe either. It's true. Bruce replaced me. He let Jason replace me, or maybe he made him do it.

A near-hysterical laugh bubbles out as soon as I've had the thought.

Of course he didn't make him do it. Jason's been begging Bruce to let him fight crime since pretty much the day he came home. I think about the hours I spent sitting with him, first in the police station and then in the kitchen, just me, him and Alfred drinking fancy hot chocolate and trying to get him to relax a little bit, to accept that things were going to get better, that it wasn't some big trick.

And after all that, all it took for Jason to decide he was home was seeing Batman come out of the secret elevator behind the bookcase. That's what it's always been for him. Sure, having a family, a home and all the money in universe were good bonuses, but Jason has _ALWAYS_ wanted Robin.

And now it's all his.

"A word of advice, if you care to hear it. Do not mistake necessity for something it's not. In any case, I'm sure your master has enough ways to keep you in line without you giving him any additional ammunition."

"Necessity?" I repeat, looking up at Ra's with a glare. He still has that carefully blank look on his face, and I might as well be trapped in New York with Slade playing mind games with me. "He didn't have to do anything. He chose to take something that was NEVER his to take."

The blank look turns pitying, and the pit of my stomach clenches.

"Your master has truly outdone himself."

I flinch and look at the carpet so I don't have to see his face anymore. Ra's is wrong. Batman replaced me; nothing Slade said or did has anything to do with how much that hurts. But he's also right. I know that I'm not the same person I was when this all started—I'm not even the same person I was all those months ago when I stole the chips from the watchtower.

I'm doing what I have to do. I made it to step three, Slade's let me outside on my own. I've made it this far and I'm so close, I can do this. It's all going to be worth it.

"What has he told you about the Light's goals?" Ra's asks suddenly, changing the conversation again. I have absolutely no problem with that.

"He told me you wanted to control the League and take over the world." The words come out terse and short. Ra's looks amused.

"Not all of us have the same goals, Richard. For example, take your own master. What does he stand to gain from joining?"

I think for a second. The look on Ra's face makes it seem like the answer should be glaringly obvious, but I'm drawing a blank. What... what does Slade want? As soon as the thought hits, I feel ridiculous but I've really never thought about this before. What does Slade actually want from the Light? The easy answer is money, but it's not like Slade is strapped for cash; our current hideout is an empty twelve story high-rise in one of the most expensive neighborhoods in New York City. So if it's not money, there's really only one other thing Slade could want from one of the most powerful and dangerous alliances in the world.

"He wants power." I say carefully, watching the perfectly neutral look on his face as Ra's leans forward, intertwining his fingers together.

"To what end?"

"What?"

"It would be a fair claim to say you know him as well as anyone could ever hope to. Suppose his goal is to gain more power; what does he want to use it for?"

What does Slade want power for? He's never mentioned anything to me about his goals for the future. Other than, you know, training me to be a worthy heir to his career as a contract mercenary.

"I... I don't know."

"Precisely." There's a creepy gleam in his eyes, and it takes me a second to figure out that he's actually speaking to me like an equal. "To align himself with us is to pledge a commitment of his time and resources to our goals."

"You don't trust him."

"Would you?" Ra's counters.

"Why are you telling me this? It's not... I mean, it's not like I know anything more than you do, he doesn't tell me anything."

"Because, unlike your master, your integrity is without question."

My gut clenches.

"If you believe that, you don't know as much as you think you do."

Ra's gives me a look that cuts all the way through me and I have to look away before the nausea takes over. Ra's leans back, but he's still watching every single move I make.

"Returning to the topic at hand, Deathstroke has been among the contenders for Ocean Master's replacement, although his nomination has been controversial."

I force a sneer onto my face even though the only thing I want to do is throw up all over the fancy, probably priceless carpet.

"What, Luthor doesn't want to have to answer to him?"

"Precisely. What's more, he is a dangerous man. And his actions towards you have cast doubts upon his honor."

My heartbeat races.

"Don't pretend you care."

"My colleagues may be indifferent towards your abuse, but I hold my followers to higher standards. And besides, I hold tremendous respect for you, Richard. Deathstroke was correct in seeing your potential, but I find it difficult to trust him when I see what he's turned you into."

"I… I'm not…"

"Robin." Ra's says, and I flinch so hard the chair scoots back. "Did you ever imagine you would be so relieved to spend an hour in my presence?"

"Don't call me that."

There's a long pause before he speaks again.

"As I've said, his nomination was controversial. However, he has emerged as the favored choice. Before he is officially appointed, he will be given a task to complete. At this moment, Savage is explaining exactly what he will be asked to do. The two of you will leave in the morning, and should the objective be completed, Deathstroke will become a full-fledged member of the Light."

Ra's leans forward.

"Once he is a member of the Light, I cannot act against him without cause. However, regardless of the outcome of this trial, you may consider the Shadows as a safe haven."

"Why? You just said you couldn't trust Slade."

"You misunderstand me. This offer does not extend to him."

The words hit me like a ton of bricks, and the offer of a way out, any way no matter what it is suddenly feels too tempting to resist. But then reality hits. 

"I can't. S—Deathstroke would never let me."

The corners of his mouth curl up into an amused smile.

"Oh, I'm sure he'd have his objections, but I advise you not to factor him into your decision. Not when it comes to this matter, at least. Should you choose to join my cause, that would be more than enough justification to act on your behalf."

Holy shit. Did Ra's just… that is… that's way too much to process. My heart forgets how to beat and the only thing I can think to ask is...

"Does Slade know?"

"That I intended to make you this offer? Or that I'm aware of exactly who you are?"

I swallow.

"Both."

"To my knowledge, no. Nor is he aware that you and I are having this conversation right now. You're welcome to inform him, of course, but I cannot guarantee you safe harbor should you make that choice."

For a second, it sounds too good to be true. Then I remember that it is. Ra's is the leader of a terrorist organization that sends assassins out to do their dirty work. 

"So basically I can trade one set of chains for another?" I ask bitterly. Ra's leans forward, locking his fingers together thoughtfully.

"Do you know how it is that I have amassed such a loyal following?" Ra's asks.

"Centuries of experience gaslighting, blackmailing, terrorizing, and subjugating the local population?"

Ra's snorts.

"No, Richard. I protect those who are loyal to me. Should you ever pledge yourself to me, I will guarantee that no harm shall ever befall those you love."

"What, and all I have to do is kill for you?"

"I know that you cannot accept my offer now. But mark my words, Richard. Wilson will make you a killer; you know this as well as I do. And once you have another's blood on your hands, do not forget that the Shadows will always welcome you with open arms."

* * *

Bumblebee aka Karen Beecher

Happy Harbor

* * *

"Just go into the weird blue box and shut the door behind you."

Saying it out loud for the fiftieth time didn't make it any less weird. But that was exactly what the Atom had told her. And then written down on the note that Karen was holding in her left hand.

Was this how heroes normally joined the Justice League? Had every superhero on the League once stood where Karen was standing, staring at an out-of-service phone box and trying to build up the courage to go in?

She could do this. She was a hero now. Sure, she didn't really know what she was doing, but she'd already stopped a bunch of robberies, broken up that gun sale down by the harbor and helped that old woman who'd fallen down the stairs. Plus, she'd gotten the attention of the actual Justice League. If she ever wanted to really learn how to be a hero, this was exactly the way to do it.

"You got this, girl. Besides, it'll be fun! And it'll be good to be on a team again," Karen reminded herself. It still stung that she'd had to quit cheerleading after the Incident, but she really had needed the time off to learn to control her new powers. Besides, there was no reason she couldn't try out again next year. And yes, this definitely wasn't how she thought her sophomore year would go, but how many small-town cheerleaders got the chance to be a superhero?

"Just go into the weird blue box and shut the door behind you."

Karen pulled her headgear down, positioning her goggles into place to put the finishing touches on her Bumblebee uniform, and stepped inside the phone box.

"_Recognized: Bumblebee, B-13." _

Karen blinked as the intense light faded and she saw a trio standing in a huge cavernous room. The girl in front threw out her hands and beamed, "Welcome to the Team!"

Karen's brain stopped for a half second when she realized she recognized all three of them.

"Megan?!" Bumblebee exclaimed, her eyes bulging. "You're—a super hero?"

"Surprise?" Megan smiled, giving a small shrug. Karen stared. Her normally shy, awkward friend looked perfectly at home in her miniskirt, heels and cape standing in the middle of a top-secret superhero cave-base. Next to her, Conner had traded his plain black t-shirt for one with a bright red Superman logo. The boy standing behind him looked identical to Conner in every way, except for the close-shaved asymmetric cut, the studded leather jacket, and the heels that were even taller than Megan's.

Conner gave a little cough.

"Oh right, sorry! Hang on." Megan held up a hand to gesture for Karen to wait, and a second later she… shifted somehow. A band of green formed around her hairline, moving quickly down her body and leaving the skin bright green behind it until Karen was staring at a green version of her friend. Who was apparently not only a superhero, but some kind of shapeshifting… alien?

"Okay, now surprise." Megan offered with a small grin.

Karen blinked in shock before she tilted her head to the side and thought about it for about a half-second. All the (many) weird things about the two of them suddenly clicked perfectly into place.

"You know what? I take it back; this makes total sense. So, am I finally gonna get to learn what's up with your weirdo boyfriend?"

"Good to see you too, Bumblebee." Conner grinned, pulling another boy along who looked exactly like him. "I want you to meet my twin, this is—"

"Flamebird." Conner's brother smiled and winked, holding out his hand for her to shake. Karen's brain shorted out just a little. Conner with a personality and high heels, who knew? "It's great to meet you, I've been looking forward to not being the only new person around here."

It took a few seconds for Karen's brain to reboot.

"Since when do you have a twin?" Karen demanded, looking at Conner and refusing to acknowledge the way Megan was giggling at her. Easy for her to say, she'd had months to get the googly-eyes out of her system.

"It's a recent development." Conner shrugged. Flamebird winked again. Karen felt herself blush, which to be fair, she was staring at two hot superhero boys; she was only human. Karen turned back to Megan, beaming in excitement.

"This is so cool, Meg! I still can't believe Martin was right about—"

"Sorry, Bumblebee, uh—" Megan cut her off, glancing at Conner with a frown. "Can we talk to you for a second?"

Karen's smile faltered, her stomach twisting nervously.

"Seriously? I've been here for all of thirty seconds and I'm already in trouble?"

"You're not in trouble! It's just… hang on." Megan assured her but before Karen could respond, her friends were leading her down a hallway and into a room with huge mirrors and leafy green plants stretching along the walls and two green armchairs in the center. Conner shut the door behind them with a click before nodding at Megan.

"So… the thing is…" Megan started, twisting her hands together anxiously. "Um…"

Karen waited for her to continue, but the sound just trailed off into an awkward silence. Karen glanced around the room, hoping it wouldn't last and trying to distract herself from the growing butterflies in her stomach. Megan opened her mouth after a few seconds, only to let her shoulders slump with a heavy sigh.

"We're on a codename basis only." Conner finished when it was clear Megan wasn't going to continue. Karen blinked. She must have been missing something because that… really wasn't so bad.

"Uh… okay? I mean, I guess that makes sense. Is that for everyone, or you just don't want the new kids accidentally telling the world Batman's secret identity?"

Megan flinched and Conner frowned.

"I was kidding!"

"I know. Sorry." Megan said quietly, but she didn't loosen her arms from the tight grip she had around her stomach. She sat down in one of the green chairs and after a moment of hesitation, Karen took the other. Conner crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. "It's the new team policy. I don't know how much the League or anyone told you, but it…it's a new policy. I know that it's a little awkward and it's unfair but we—"

"Hey, it's fine. I totally get it." Karen held up her hands. "So, I'm supposed to call you guys-"

"We're Superboy and Miss Martian." Conner answered.

"Got it. No problem! Was that everything? 'Cause to be honest, I still feel like I'm missing something." Karen—no, Bumblebee. Bumblebee. Okay, that was definitely going to take some getting used to—Bumblebee asked.

Miss Martian and Superboy looked at each other. Bumblebee gasped when Miss Martian's eyes glowed green, but it was pretty anti-climactic when nothing else happened. Finally, Miss Martian sighed.

"We're not supposed to talk about it… I mean, yet. Aqualad was supposed to go over everything when the whole team gets here, but…" Miss Martian took a deep breath and Bumblebee's heart skipped a beat at the look on her friend's face. This was serious. Like, real superhero business serious. Bumblebee was only sort of kidding about being in trouble after thirty-seconds; she really hadn't been in the hero business long enough to be ready for this. "We didn't use to be… like I said, this is a new policy. But some stuff went badly. I'm not allowed to tell you what, and I'm sorry that I can't. But we're trying to be as careful as can so that we can… so we can keep everyone safe."

"I know it's hard to be the new person and you're going to want to know what people are talking about if it comes up. If that happens, ask me, ask Miss Martian, or ask Aqualad, but please don't try to go digging if we can't tell you." Superboy said seriously.

"Okay. I can do that." Bumblebee settled for something halfway between a nod and a shrug.

"I'm sorry, Bumblebee."

"Girl, you need to stop apologizing!" Bumblebee snapped, holding out her hands to get her friend to take a breath. "I know I'm joining a superhero team. And I get that this is probably gonna be really hard and complicated and I'm just trying not to mess up on my first day. Okay?"

"Thank you." Miss Martian drew in a deep breath, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "We should go back. Artemis just got here and she'll be excited to meet you. Unless you have any other questions?"

"I'm good." Bumblebee promised her friend, trying to sound as encouraging as she could be. "Let's go meet the team!"

Superboy and Miss Martian led her down the long, winding hallway to a big round cavern with a perfect circle laid into the floor. There was a blonde girl dressed in green with a bow slung over her back talking to a redhead in a neon red and yellow outfit.

"Artemis, Kid Flash, this is Bumblebee. Bumblebee, meet Artemis and Kid Flash."

"It's nice to meet you." Artemis smiled brightly. "Miss Martian and Superboy told us a lot about you."

"You too!" Bumblebee grinned back. "Uh, I mean, that it's nice to meet you. I… they didn't… not that they told me a lot about you guys."

"Don't worry about it." Artemis said warmly. "I remember what it's like to be the new kid, I promise we'll go easy on you guys."

"It's bad habit." Kid Flash said. Bumblebee frowned. Before she could say anything, Artemis whacked him in the arm.

"Don't be a jerk."

"We have rules for a reason." Kid Flash snapped back. Artemis shot him a look, mouthing something at him that Bumblebee couldn't catch. Whatever she said, the sidekick deflated and turned apologetically to Bumblebee. "Sorry. I'm just… I'm Kid Flash."

"Bumblebee." She repeated for what felt like the millionth time.

"Welcome to the team." Kid Flash held out his hand and Bumblebee shook it. "I know this is a lot to take in at once, just… do your best and you'll be fine."

"Sure. Yeah." Bumblebee agreed as if she wasn't completely distracted by how strong his grip was. Her dad would love him; he always said a firm handshake was the most important part of making a good first impression. Miss Martian tapped her fingers to her temple, holding up her other hand to let them know she was busy.

"I'm sorry, can you excuse us for a second?"

"Yeah, of course."

Miss Martian and Superboy left the room, leaving Bumblebee with Artemis and Kid Flash.

"So… is today like an orientation day or something?"

"Pretty much." Artemis smiled. "We have a few new members joining today; not counting Flamebird you're the second one here. I think Aqualad is showing him around but they'll be back soon. We'll probably get started once Rocket and Batgirl get here."

"There's a Batgirl?" Bumblebee asked. "That's so cool! Since when?"

"She's pretty new to the job too. Don't worry, you're not the only one who's just starting out." Kid Flash said. Bumblebee blushed.

"I guess it's pretty obvious I'm new to this." She said.

"No, he didn't mean it like that." Artemis assured her. "We got the briefing on all the new members last week."

"Oh. Um, so how long have you guys been… heroes?"

"I'm almost at a full year.

"Four years."

"Wow." Bumblebee stared. "So… you've been doing this—"

"Since I was twelve. Stuff was… pretty different back then."

Bumblebee waited for him to keep going, but Kid Flash just let the silence hang. Artemis looked back and forth between them, but it was clear that he had no intention of continuing. Bumblebee tried to think of a question to ask or something to say but before she could, a new voice broke through the silence.

"And this is the training room. The floor can be used as a multi-surface environment to simulate different combat situations. In team spars, the weight sensors can function as both an analytics platform and a tool to keep score."

Bumblebee turned, and her heart pounded with excitement when she actually recognized the speaker. That was Aqualad! The hero from Atlantis, the mythical underwater city ruled over by Aquaman himself. Next to him was a tall man with red hair, a red and black uniform, and a matching red and black bow. Apparently there were a lot of archers on the team. Aqualad and the Redhead were talking to a guy wearing a green and white uniform who was looking around in awe.

"Perfect timing." Artemis mumbled just loud enough for Bumblebee to overhear. "Bumblebee, these are some more of our teammates. Aqualad is the one in front, he's the team leader. Next to him is Red Arrow, he's joining in a reserved capacity. Behind them is Green Lantern, he's new too. You should go introduce yourself, while I borrow Aqualad for a second."

That seemed like as good an idea as any. Bumblebee tugged on her goggles to make sure they were still in place before crossing the room.

The Green Lantern was standing by the doorway where Aqualad and Red Arrow had left him, and he smiled Bumblebee approached.

"Are you part of the welcome wagon too?" The Green Lantern's smile was friendly but it was clear Bumblebee wasn't the only one with first day nerves.

"No, I'm actually new too." Bumblebee admitted.

"Oh thank god I'm not the only one!" He held out his hand for her to shake. "It's really nice to meet you, I'm Kyle."

"Guess I'm not the only one who missed the no-names memo." Bumblebee said as she shook his hand.

"The what?"

"Apparently we're supposed to use codenames only. I'm Bumblebee."

"I guess you can call me Green Lantern then. Wow, that… that might get confusing, I think there's like, four other lanterns on this planet alone." Kyle shook his head. "Thanks for the heads up, though."

"No problem." Bumblebee answered. "So, what do you do?"

Green Lantern held up his hand, showing off the green ring on his middle finger.

"Magic space ring. I make big green stuff appear and hit bad guys with it. There's some paperwork involved, but that's the gist of it."

"That's cool!" Bumblebee offered. He smiled at her.

"I'm still pretty new to all of this, honestly. Technically, I wasn't even supposed to have the ring but the Lantern Corps gave me a shot and the next thing I know I'm halfway across the galaxy fighting things I can barely comprehend, and apparently, I did something right because they let me keep it. Hal and J—I mean, that other lanterns tracked me down one day and said they had an opportunity I might like. And… here I am."

"Wow." Bumblebee stared, her mouth suddenly dry and her heart pounding faster than she wanted to admit. "So you're like… you've done this stuff. Fought the bad guys and gone to space and saved the world?"

"Kind of? I mean, yeah, once but I had pretty much no idea what was happening to be honest. I don't really know what 'being a Lantern' even means. I'm pretty much hoping that joining a team will help me magically figure it out somehow."

"Cool." Bumblebee repeated.

"What about you?"

"I get small." Bumblebee said. It sounded even stupider out loud. "And I fly. And… shoot lasers."

"That's so cool!" Green Lantern grinned. He pointed to the wings on the back of her costume. "So those really work?"

"Only when I'm, uh, small." Bumblebee blushed. "But yeah. That's pretty much it."

"So cool! How'd you get your powers? Or is it super advanced or weird kooky alien tech?"

"Powers. And it's a long story. But you would not believe how much of a hassle these things can be." Bumblebee joked, pointing at her wings, and Green Lantern laughed.

"I bet! Well, I can't wait to see them in action." He offered, before nodding at the rest of the room. "Have you met everyone else yet?"

"A few of them. I actually already know Miss Martian and Superboy."

"That's so nice." Green Lantern confessed, looking a bit embarrassed. "I have absolutely no idea who any of these people are."

"You should go say hi." Bumblebee said.

"Uh… I'm not… I'm just better with one-on-one. I'll say hi later."

"Sure you will." Bumblebee teased, and Green Lantern rolled his eyes in response. Then she caught sight of Miss Martian re-entering the room, talking to a blonde woman in a leotard, tights, and combat boots and a dark-haired girl dressed like a magician. Miss Martian caught her eye and waved them both over. The blonde woman smiled warmly, but the magician girl pulled her arms around herself even tighter and looked down at the floor. Bumblebee didn't miss the worried look that passed between the other two, but Miss Martian was smiling again before she could say anything.

"I see you've met our new Green Lantern." Miss Martian said, nodding at Kyle. "This is Zatanna and Black Canary."

Magician girl glanced up; Bumblebee knew those bloodshot eyes well enough to know the girl had just been crying. Zatanna tried to smile, but it came out as more of a watery grimace. Black Canary stepped forward, holding out her hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both." Canary said, shaking each of their hands. "I'm the team's primary combat instructor. I hope you're both ready to work."

"Born ready." Green Lantern said.

"What he said." Bumblebee agreed, but there was an uncomfortable tightness growing in the pit of her stomach.

"I love the enthusiasm." Black Canary grinned. "Well, on the behalf of the League, let me be the first to welcome you to the team—"

Black Canary cut off suddenly, her gaze moving to the other side of the room. Bumblebee glanced behind her to see that Aqualad had re-entered the room.

"I'm sorry, I'll be back in a minute."

"Uh, sure." Green Lantern frowned.

"No problem." Bumblebee said.

Black Canary strode over to Aqualad before pulling him and Red Arrow aside. Zatanna looked up at them and offered a hesitant grimace, before heading for the hallway.

Kyle muttered something that sounded like, "What the hell is happening?"

"You okay?" Bumblebee asked the Green Lantern.

"Are you getting really weird vibes from everyone, too?"

Bumblebee looked around, but Black Canary was talking to Aqualad and Red Arrow, and Kid Flash, Artemis, Superboy and Flamebird were huddled on the other side of the room. She tugged Kyle a little closer.

"I was talking to Miss Martian before. Apparently, the team's been around for a while, and something really bad just happened."

"You mean, bad like Superman trying to destroy the entire planet?"

"I have no idea." Bumblebee admitted quietly. "I just know that it's why they're being strict with the codenames. She also said Aqualad was supposed to tell us more later when everyone's here. But taking a wild guess, I think it's something with Zatanna, and probably Kid Flash too."

"I hate being the new kid." Green Lantern muttered.

"_Recognized. Rocket, B-11_." The automated cave system announced over the speakers.

"Ever heard of Rocket?" Bumblebee asked. Green Lantern shook his head.

"Nope."

"Me neither."

Artemis waved them over, and once they'd crossed the room she said, "We're going to head back to the main room to get started. A few more people are supposed to show up, but it'll be good for you guys to have a chance to meet Rocket before we get going."

Rocket turned out to be a girl about Bumblebee's age with spiky black hair wearing coveralls, a partial hood, and a glowing purple belt. She was talking to Black Canary, who pointed at Bumblebee and Green Lantern almost as soon as they entered. Rocket smiled and met them on the far side of the room.

"Hi! I'm Bumblebee, it's nice to meet you!"

"I'm Green Lantern." Green Lantern introduced himself a little awkwardly. Rocket shook both of their hands with a grin.

"You can call me Rocket. Are you both new too?"

"Yup."

"Very new." Bumblebee agreed.

"Gotta admit, I was kind of bummed when the League told me they were putting me on the junior squad. I was hoping I'd get some perks being a sidekick and all."

"You're a sidekick?" Bumblebee asked, intrigued.

"Ever since I convinced Icon to put on a mask and start saving the world." Rocket grinned.

"So cool!" Bumblebee exclaimed.

"What about you?" Rocket asked.

"Green Lantern Corps." Kyle said, holding up his ring. "Technically makes me like a space cop or something, I'm still kind of fuzzy on the details."

"Neat. So you've been to space?"

"Oh yeah, all the time. It's definitely one of the perks of the job."

Someone cleared their throat, and Bumblebee looked up to see that the rest of the team had filed into the room. Everyone was standing in a half-circle with Aqualad in front. Red Arrow stood behind him, a hand on his shoulder in support. There was something… intense about the gesture, something that wasn't just a casual touch.

Were they… a thing? And more importantly, was there any way Bumblebee could ask without walking into a super awkward conversation if she was wrong?

Rocket and Green Lantern had gone to join the ring and Bumblebee hurried to follow them.

"Before we get started, I would like to thank you all for coming." Aqualad said quietly, but somehow his voice still carried effortlessly through the room. "As you're all aware, the last few months have been challenging. We have all been through a great deal, and unfortunately, I cannot promise that our difficulties are behind us. However, we are stronger united than we are apart. I hope that you will grant me another chance to lead you despite my failures, and I hope that we can rebuild some of what has been broken."

Bumblebee noticed that Aqualad was staring right at Kid Flash, but Miss Martian flinched anyways. Aqualad sighed, his shoulders dropping.

"My friends, it _is_ good to see you all here. And to our newest members, I apologize for the need for secrecy and I thank you for being here despite it. This team is entering a new era, and as we do so, we will welcome new friends without leaving old friends behind. To begin, I would like to offer our new members a chance to introduce themselves, but as you do, please keep in mind that our new security measures—"

He was cut off by the huge tubes on the back wall whirling to life, a bright yellow glow emanating from them.

"_Recognized, Batgirl, B-09."_

Batgirl turned out to be a red-haired girl wearing a purple and yellow costume complete with bat ears and a cape. She stepped out of the way of the transporter and paused, turning back to stare expectantly at it.

A second later, the automated voice rang out over the speakers again.

"_Recognized. Robin, B-01_."

Around them, the entire team froze. Bumblebee was right there with them, staring as Robin—_the_ _Robin_, the very first sidekick, partner to Batman himself—stepped out of the zeta beam. Bumblebee couldn't help the grin spreading over her face. He looked exactly like the newspaper pictures and the video clips and the documentaries she'd seen, even if he was a little shorter than she would've thought. She'd never seen him in person, but it was impossible not to be a little starstruck. He was the very first kid to be a hero, the one who paved the way for Speedy and Kid Flash and Aqualad and every other sidekick that had followed.

Hell, if it wasn't for Robin, Karen probably wouldn't have been here at all.

"No." Kid Flash broke the silence. "You can't be serious."

Robin flinched.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Kid Flash shouted, stepping forward until he was next to Aqualad.

"Kid, enough." Aqualad commanded. Kid Flash whirled on him.

"Seriously?! You're okay with this? You don't have any problem with this?!"

"KF, this isn't the time." Red Arrow frowned, putting a hand on Kid Flash's shoulder.

"Oh, like _you_ get any say in this." Kid Flash snapped, slapping the archer's hand away. Red Arrow's shoulders stiffened, and all around them, the other heroes flinched. Artemis inhaled sharply, locking eyes with Superboy. Bumblebee glanced at Green Lantern and Rocket to see if they had any clue what was happening, but they looked just as lost as she was.

"Kid." Aqualad said sternly.

"Don't you dare." Kid Flash spat.

"Back off! He's ready. We both are." Batgirl shot back.

"Since when do Kid Flash and Robin hate each other?" Rocket hissed to Bumblebee and Green Lantern. Bumblebee shook her head, watching in confusion as everyone quickly began to shouting at each other.

"Do I look like I have any idea what's going on? Don't answer that!" Green Lantern shot back.

"I'm not letting you replace him!" Kid Flash yelled loud enough to shake the floor.

"Replacing him was your idea!" Robin snarled, jabbing a finger against Kid Flash's chest.

"We weren't gonna replace him!" Kid Flash shouted back. "Not for real, not like this!"

Zatanna burst into sobs, and Artemis reached over to pull her into a hug. Bumblebee looked at Rocket in alarm and Rocket shot her back a look that was equally confused.

"I'm not here to replace him!" Robin shouted. "I'm only here to help you guys find him! None of this was supposed to have happened, but you all know that you need me here!"

"And you think he needs you to get yourself killed?!"

"This isn't up to you!" Robin snarled. "Look. I'm here now and that's it. This isn't how it was supposed to go but if it was him, he would do the exact same thing. Don't even try to pretend he wouldn't.

"It's not the same at all!" Miss Martian broke in suddenly.

"You can't be this selfish when everything he did was to keep you safe!" Kid Flash shouted.

"I'M THE ONE BEING SELFISH?!" Robin thundered. "YOU KNEW! YOU KNEW THE WHOLE TIME AND IT'S YOUR FAULT HE-"

"Robin!" Batgirl grabbed Robin before he could throw himself at Kid Flash.

"WELL, WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?!" Kid Flash screamed back.

"HE TRUSTED YOU TO FIX IT—"

"WHAT DID YOU WANT ME TO DO?! PAINT A GODDAMN TARGET ON MY CHEST AND TELL HIM TO SHOOT ME AGAIN?!"

"Why don't we take a tour around the cave?" Superboy interrupted suddenly, stepping in front to shield Bumblebee and the other newbies from the screaming match going on behind him.

"Good idea. I can take everyone." Artemis volunteered.

"Yeah… sounds good…" Rocket said slowly. Bumblebee nodded, attempting something near a smile that came out much closer to a grimace. Artemis gestured for them to follow her and Bumblebee, Rocket and Green Lantern hurried out of the room behind her.

"What the hell was that?" Rocket hissed to Green Lantern. Bumblebee couldn't help but sneak a glance back to see that Miss Martian had joined in, gesturing emphatically next to Kid Flash. The volume gradually faded as Artemis led them deeper and deeper into the cave, finally disappearing when they rounded the corner and entered a combined kitchen and living room area.

Artemis threw herself down onto the couch and let out an exhausted sigh.

"I'm sorry you guys had to see that."

Zatanna curled up on the couch next to her and leaned on her shoulder, tears dripping down her face. Artemis reached an arm around to give her a comforting squeeze before gesturing for Bumblebee, Rocket and Green Lantern to sit. Bumblebee shrugged at the other two before sitting down across from Artemis. Rocket sat on her left and Green Lantern leaned against her chair.

"They are really getting into it." Flamebird reported as he entered the living room, heels clicking against the floor.

"Of course they are." Artemis sighed again. "Miss M staying for the fireworks?"

"Of course she is. It was her idea in the first place." Superboy said, following behind his twin. He grabbed a water bottle off the counter and tossed it to Artemis. She caught it without looking and handed it to Zatanna, who wiped her eyes and took a long drink.

"Are we supposed to be following any of this?" Rocket demanded.

"I would be really impressed if you were." Artemis answered. "Look, I can actually give you the tour, or you can just ask me all about that clusterfuck if you want."

"I thought we weren't supposed to ask." Bumblebee said.

"Yeah, well, we were supposed to keep all the drama under wraps. Rule one of the team; we're supposed to be covert, and we suck at it."

"Are you okay?" Rocket asked Zatanna hesitantly. Zatanna sniffed, wiping her eyes.

"I'm just really, really sick of listening to them fight. Like I get it, but Robin—" Zatanna froze for a second, then exhaled sharply and continued, "He's doing the exact same thing we all did."

"I'm confused, is he… Robin was the first sidekick, right?" Green Lantern asked slowly.

Artemis nodded hesitantly.

"Was he not on the team before…" Green Lantern trailed off and Bumblebee frowned. Miss Martian and Superboy asked her not to go digging, but Artemis was right here offering them anything they wanted to know.

"You don't have to answer if it's a secret but… what happened to the Team? Miss Martian said there was something that went wrong and that's why there's all the new rules and you brought us in, but what was it?"

Artemis frowned.

"We had leaks. Information about the Team and the whole Justice League was being passed to our enemies and… they used it to hurt us."

"Oh."

"That… sucks." Rocket offered.

"Yeah." Artemis agreed bitterly. "Yeah it did."

"Since when do Robin and Kid Flash hate each other?" Bumblebee asked. Artemis hesitated for an uncomfortably long time before answering, "…they don't."

"You sure about that? Because it sure seemed like it."

Artemis and Superboy looked at each other.

"Uh…"

"Um…"

"You go ahead."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Look they don't… there's a lot of personal history. Kid Flash is just scared that he's gonna get hurt."

"But isn't he… I mean, this is dangerous stuff, I get that. But he's Robin, isn't he? The Robin. He's been doing this longer than anyone."

Artemis flinched.

"He is Robin." She agreed slowly.

"That's the problem." Superboy finished for her. Silence fell over the room and none of them knew what to say to break it. Zatanna sniffed suddenly, wiping away a tear with a watery laugh.

"We're not doing a very good job of selling the lifestyle, are we?"

Bumblebee, Rocket and Green Lantern all looked at each other. This was… definitely not at all what Bumblebee thought her first day of superhero training would be like. Not at all.

"Look, I know we're not doing a great job selling the team, but beginnings are always rocky. We all really want this to work." Artemis said suddenly.

"Wait until the first mission before you decide anything." Superboy crossed his arms over his chest.

"Trial by fire?" Rocket asked.

"Something like that." Superboy agreed. A whoosh of air blew through the room, scattering papers and pushing over seat cushions, and when it cleared, Kid Flash was standing there. His eyes were wide and his chest was heaving like he'd just sprinted a marathon. Wait, he was a speedster. He was breathing like he'd just sprinted a hundred marathons and then turned around to do an Ultramarathon.

"Briefing room. Now." He announced.

"What happened?" Artemis asked. Kid Flash took a ragged breath.

"Cold just called. We know where he is."

For a second, the room stood still. Then, Artemis, Zatanna, Superboy and Flamebird were sprinting down the hallway after Kid Flash.

"Should we…" Green Lantern began, but Bumblebee was already shirking down while her wings buzzed to life, zipping down the hallway after her new teammates.

"Come on!" She shouted.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up next, the Team has a happy reunion, everything ends well and everyone lives happily ever after. Okay, so maybe that's not exactly how it's going to go... But on the bright side, we are getting close to the end! If you can believe it, there's only ten chapters left!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and following the story! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please leave me a comment if you liked it, I always love hearing from you guys! If you have any theories about what's going to happen next, please share them! I adore hearing your conspiracy theories!
> 
> Thank you again for your support!


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